I'll be the perfect mom, and he's the perfect child! Bashny.Net

I am not going to give the child a sweet. Even so. My child will not be sweet to ask. Every day I'm going to offer him a new develop the game, given all at once educational system. We will walk in both summer and winter equally long. But I'll never put on an astronaut costume. In short, I'll be the perfect mom. And he is the perfect child.
I give up.

Maria Rozhkova

So, okay. My life doesn't want to appear perfect, but everything about my parenting and my child will definitely be the perfect -2,5 years ago on the birthday of my son, I thought so. In my arms was a pound of the reality, warm the baby, which all of us will harmoniously from day one and at least another 12 years.

 





Of course, I will breastfeed him, I said. All day and sleep in a bright, sun-filled room arm in arm with the baby, blithely posting instagram photos of his heels. And 12 days after we were safely discharged from the hospital, again I had to go there, only without the baby. And lying 6 days on a drip with a temperature of 40, and experience that my son had left without me, my parents, and wait for all three antibiotics will be excreted, to be able again to breastfeed. Felt a wave of guilt and became depressed.

 

Of course, I have to travel with a baby in the parks and guests throwing shoulder indispensable and easy to use sling. I'm a great mom, having a picnic with friends in the shade of fresh leaves. In fact, after giving birth, I physically could not sit, afraid to go with a toddler in the yard, and he to four months of uninterrupted screaming. After the third unsuccessful attempt, getting tangled in the heavy sling, I left the hope to learn how to tie. And we for six months sat at home.

Definitely, we will to be creative is to sculpt bunnies, drawing machines and gluing butterflies. We are passionate about ideas, each other, reveal palette, and three hours hover over the sketch pad. I even cleared the wall for future drawings and a shelf for craft projects on the shelf. My son is after each stroke requires to wash his brushes and hands, because the presence of paint somewhere else besides paper, absolutely does not suit him. And anyway, he doesn't like to sit at the table, and loves to run. He would have painted, if it was possible to do on the fly.

My child will be as small as possible (sorry) toys, because I recent years no wonder get rid of unnecessary things and will not allow the manipulation of the market to prevail upon my noble idea to educate informed in respect of human consumption. However, I did not realize that the toys appear in the house as themselves – give them to friends, buys grandma and worst of all myself. Boldly pressing the mouse button, take and confirm the online order. And when I hide unnecessary, in my opinion, toys in the hope to give my boy a couple of months of recalls and requires them to look throughout the apartment.

 





My child will love to be in nature and appreciate its vastness, childhood imbued with power that gives us undeveloped cities of the earth. However, in one of the trips I doubted: my son is a few meters walk through the high wet grass howled "I want on the road." He's in complete bewilderment listened to my story that there are places where roads are absent. So he will be a hopeless urbanist?
 

I am not going to give the child a sweet. Even so. My child will not be sweet to ask. Every day I'm going to offer him a new develop the game, given all at once educational system. We will walk in both summer and winter equally long. But I'll never put on an astronaut costume. He will love vegetables, and I know how to cook them. And so on and so forth. In short, I'll be the perfect mom. And he is the perfect child.
 Tired of talking about it? Own child I will never get tired. And never I will not even raise his voice. Never. Well, well.

So, for two years I was absolutely crushed by the weight of its own expectations. I thought my motherhood is a complete failure in all respects. Parental neurosis had become a depressionthat has been treated. I no longer had to control every detail, to meet their own and others ' ideas, to observe educational rules and do everything with impeccable precision.

I give up, I said. I looked around and realized that it had to be done much earlier. Because I saw your child and how much I loved him and more love. Such as he is, in glasses, with his fear of large dogs, wakings at night, anxiety and obstinacy, with his passion for Apple juice and shortbread cookies,I love him and forgive yourself, with your mistakes, questions, hopes and disappointments.

 

I love its different and unique. I follow his son, sending holiday internal Hyper-responsible parent. Okay, we're imperfect.
We will be ourselves.

We play in the railroad. However, it depicts a giant who tramples bomb the rails and the unfortunate train. Then Ivan Tsarevich, the rails and turn into a sword. Looks bad, but I still love it. I had it, and did not occur.

 





We bake cookies. He likes to eat butter with a knife and RUB the stomach with flour than to cut out stars using the cookie cutter. Well, I'm not in a hurry to shake. I have the face half in flour.
  
We decorate the Christmas tree, and the son brought a stool, silently climbed up and now shoots all the toys that are already hung. But as hard he does it.

And so on and so forth.

Go to work, feeling guilty runs with a heavy train behind, and the son on the phone singing me "the grass was a grasshopper". Okay, guilt, reach, how you will suffice, and I will love my son and all the imperfections that accompany our wonderful life.published

P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! © Join us at Facebook , Vkontakte, Odnoklassniki

Source: ponaroshku.ru/blog/ya-budu-idealnoy-mamoy-a-on-idealnym-rebenkom/