This photo a day challenge, is where I embark on the epic, personal journey to take one photograph every day for the month of January, of the things that are important to me.
There are days when I look at images of my three children and wonder could life get anymore perfect; really could it? Sure I could win lotto and that would help (a lot) in cementing the perfection, as would the absence of bills and obligations, but leaving that aside, life as we know it, is pretty good or is it. My kids are healthy. They’re happy. They’re loved. Yes of course, they’re not perfect – far from ‘perfect’. They mis-behave; their ears don’t work as well as they should. They forget to say please and thank-you sometimes, and their table manners on occasions, despite guidance, leave a lot to be desired. They fight between themselves and lately – poor Willow – they forget to include her in their little activities.
I try to do what I think is best as a parent. I work hard. Trevor works hard. We work to give them everything we think they need. We try to teach them right from wrong; good from bad; and respect. I know we’re guilty of pushing them aside when life gets busy. Of course, in that moment there are other things more pressing – or so it would seem. We probably feed them far too much junk food and not enough veggies on the weekends, and say ‘no’ more then we say ‘yes’.
Could it ever be possible – do you think – for a child to be born to the wrong parents? Is it fate they came your way or just coincidence? I have wondered many times, if what I’m doing is right by them. Am I a good mother? Could someone do better; maybe have more success at the listening issue then I; or yell far less then I, or spend more time with them then I. Sometimes I lie in bed at night wondering if I could be doing more. Did I spend enough time with them? Should I have stopped what I was doing and read that book Lily wanted me to read; or watched Byron ride his bike instead of woking away doing something else? Maybe I should have. Or maybe the failure is canceled out by the song I sang with Lily, or the quiet moment I spent with Byron. Who knows. I guess these are the questions of life. Questions that can only be answered when I stand at the front door waving goodbye, hoping and praying they stay safe as they spend their first night in their new home. Perhaps that’s when I can finally seek an answer to the much sort question: “Have I been a good mum?“.
Until then, I can only revel in the notion of perfection as I see it right now staring back at me.
by nicolera
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