I should have played with my kids more. I read the poem. I vowed to be “that” mom. “That” amazingly wonderful mom who always had energy and time for her kids, who was ready to read the stories, play the games, to have the perfect talks, to be “that” mom. But I wasn’t. I was just me. Their mom. My kids’ mom. The one who was too tired at times, who was grouchy at times, and the one who said “you are not making a mess with that now” and “no, you can’t have that”. And now my kids are grown and I look back and think about all the times I wasn’t “that” mom. And now I know I should have let them play in the tub more even though I wanted to get the baths done, I should have let them play with make-up even though it was hard to scrub off, I should have taken more time, done more things. Now the time has passed. I hope I was enough of “their” mom for them to remember. It’s all I’ve got.
Looking Back
