It took me quite a while to realize what it means being a mom.
My own mother told me so many times that I’ll be remembering her when I’ll be having my own children. She used to say so when she was upset with me. And as I remember, she was it very often because I wasn’t the girl she wanted me to be.
I always translated her threat this way: Being a mom isn’t a very nice thing to be. It brings you a lot of frustration and worries, and children aren’t grateful for all the work you do for them. And I believed her because I saw her feeling disappointed by me so many times and because she never told me that having children opens your heart and your mind.
When I look at my two boys today, I realize what my mother didn’t feel.
I appreciate so much that the boys came into my life. I am proud of being their mom. My relationship with them is the most special one I ever had, and I finally feel the tie, which will always be between big and little boy and me: it is love.