I Care About Your Fiber (and Everything Else)

Have you seen that commercial? The one where the guy comes in the break room, sees the girl eating Fiber One cereal and begins this whole dialogue about, "I care about your fiber." Another guy, who seemingly had a crush on that girl says, "I've cared about your fiber for a while." At least I think that's the jist of it. I tried finding it on You Tube with no luck, so I guess you'll have to settle for my vague storytelling skills ;)

That commercial made me think about how much we care about those we love. And what they eat. What they do, how the do it, etc. It's one thing to care about these things for our husbands - making sure they drink enough water, eat enough vegetables and not too many sweets - at least as much as we can assist someone else in making good decisions ;) But I believe this fact is magnified a gazillion times when it comes to our kids. Our babies.

Sure, we care about their fiber. But as moms, we care about even MORE than that.

We wonder about their sugar, preservatives, and vegetable intake.

We question the difference between homemade chicken broth vs. boullion, pasturized milk vs. organic, and feel guilty about giving them Goldfish crackers rather than carrot sticks.

We think about if they're exposed to enough books, have opportunities for learning and get enough socialization with other kids.

We wonder if we're feeding them too much macaroni and cheese and not enough avocado, watermelon and mango (and for the record, I have never even offered my boys mango before!)

We don't know if their language development is normal, their fine motor skills are on-point and their ability to understand when we say 'no.' Are we getting outside enough?

We are unaware if other kids the same age are using utensils, feeding themself out of a bowl or pooping this many times a day.

We question our role as a mother, wife, friend and daughter and all that has led up to this point.

And we're professional worriers. I mean, who else is going to be concerned for our kids, right? It's just us. We're it. And we've got to do our best because we've only got one shot at this thing.

Gosh, as if we didn't need more pressure.

Motherhood is tough, for sure. And I don't necessarily anticipate it getting much easier. When I do look back on the past fifteen months, I am amazed at how far we've come. How much we've learned. I do take a lot of confidence from that. Sleepless nights, countless questions for the pediatirican, feeding two babies every three hours, pumping after every feeding... yes, we have come a long way.

I never realized just how much my mom did - how much she sacrificed for us kids - until I became a mom. The moment our pregnancy test came back positive, I felt the same excitement she did and began to sense the huge weight of responsibility that I had just undertaken. Then I saw her in a new light of appreciation. She had the same conversations with Dad about how proud she was of us, how cute it was when we make that little elephant sound and wondering how she was going to make it through that day. And she did it. And she did it well.

Millions of other women have added their names to the ranks of sacrificial, nurturing and loving moms. And they've all had the same goal: to do the very best they could in raising their children.

I suppose there will always be a part of me that will wonder whether or not we're doing everything alright. If we're providing the very best we can for those we love. And I'm sure I'll mess up. I'll have bad days. I'll get discouraged and compare myself to the other moms that appear to have it all together. I'm only human; it happens. But I hope that I will always be able to remind myself of the fact that I really am doing the best I can. Despite the lies I might have come to believe, I am the absolute best mom for Jack and Ben. Each of us are. And if we're doing our absolute best, there is nothing better we can offer those we love.