Pin this

So I haven’t blogged since Wilder quit nursing. I wasn’t kidding when I said I used my time trapped in the rocker to blog on my phone. Lately I’m lucky to return a text or scroll through Pinterest and get all excited about crap I will absolutely never ever do. Like make burlap stockings. Or 5436887 layer dessert or 365 super yummy cheap healthy crockpot meals. In fact, this whole Pinterest phenom is kind of giving us noncrafting moms a bad name.
I CAN sew (it was a phase in college … Tops were made … Curtains sewn). I CAN decoupage (it was a phase … Anything standing still too long got a custom photo and layer of mod podge). I just have no space (what with 65 sippy cups that need to go somewhere). And even less time. What with the working and keeping Wilder alive, fed and moderately clean.
I thought I’d be one of those moms that took a pic every month in the same chair with a sign or special onesie. Instead I have nearly 3,000 iPhone pics that are completely unorganized and a baby book with a page and a half filled in.
I have these twinges of guilt when I see some moms with their Christmas craft projects. Then it makes me think of Liv Tyler in Empire Records all baking cupcakes and popping pills with her ’24 usable hours in every day’ and I’m not saying people that do all those craft projects are junkie moms or anything … But I question whether they may be vampires that require no sleep. I rule out nothing.
I read a blog awhile back about how what our children will remember is the time we spent with them and not how crafty we were. If mommyhood is judged by how many hot glue gun sticks you go through in a year I’m dead last.
When I think of these things I think of my mom. What I remember. I remember she was always warm (still is). And huggy (def still is). She cooked dinner every night after work. She mended things and hemmed pants here and there. She rarely (despite her best intentions) finished a sewing project like our pajama pants that’d be ‘a cinch to whip up.’ I never remember doing anything crafty. But I remember her. Always her. Always there. Working and pulling in on two wheels. But always there.
It looks like I am my mother’s daughter. Despite my best intentions I’ll not likely ever make those burlap stockings. But that’s okay. I’d like to think I’m busy making memories. That Wilder will remember relentless hugs and kisses. And I’ll pin the sound of his sweet laugh in my heart. better than anything I’ve pinned on my 13 Pinterest boards by far. 20121221-201743.jpg

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About Amanda Jean Elliott

I am a joyful believer in Jesus Christ, a mother, a sister, a writer, a maker of gluten free roux and a style editor. I love my son Wilder and the wild life that comes with a 4-year-old who has the energy of a pack of wolves. I also love naps (a lot). I love to cook and create my favorite dishes without gluten not because I'm trendy and anti-gluten so much as it makes me feel like I've been run over by a pack of wolves. I teach 5th and 6th grade girls Sunday School and have a classroom of the greatest girls I could imagine. Girls who often teach me more than I teach them. I believe these girls and many others are the spark to start a fire for The Lord the likes of which this world has never seen. I see more and more girls learning about more than just who God is ... but, learning about who God says THEY are. It is my prayer for every woman to know without doubt that we have a good good Father in heaven and whatever is not right on this earth, He will make right in this life or the next.
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One Response to Pin this

  1. Kim Nugent says:

    LOVE! What you remember about your mom ARE the things that matter.

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