Thanks to the demands of my career, I often struggle with mama guilt. I’m not known as mother of the year when it comes to volunteering at school or heading up the church social. Our supper menu consists of frozen pizza or cereal more often than it should. You won’t be impressed by homemade art projects hanging on the wall when you come to visit. His birthday parties aren’t going to make the cover of a magazine, nor am I.
But although we didn’t make it to the beach during fall break last year, he did get to co-pilot a combine while I harvested beans. He may be humiliated by me stealing a kiss from him in public, but he will flat flip out at the thought of skipping our routine cuddle time at night. He’s the only kid I know that insists on getting up at 5:30 a.m. so we can see each other before I leave in the morning. Our idea of fun these days is family movie night with popcorn, curled up on the couch because that meets my need for rest and our need for time together. When possible he gets to be my chauffeur on the Gator to run parts or supper to the field… which makes him feel super important and me smile because I forget I’m working at that point.
After reading that blog I was reminded that what he wants most is to see my smile, to hear my voice, to feel important in my life. He simply wants me, just as I am. My mama guilt was suddenly relieved.