10 years into motherhood and I still struggle to find that balance. Every night, after a good amount of bedtime read, kiss, hug, chitchat and the remarkable saying of ‘I love you’ to my two boys to sleep, I would make a promise. A promise in the secrecy of my own heart.
That I’d be a better mom the next day. Somehow, the promise made fades into oblivion when the day comes. Not everyday, but time and again. The reason is immensely ordinary. A worried mom’s heart.
I fear the uncertainties despite the blessings of today. Some days, the worry takes so much control that I lose the privilege of being in the present moment. It’s a premature judgement. A mind game. Or a mom game.
But it does lead to big worry. And when my worry dominates, I lack mindfulness. A mindful parenting is something I always pride myself on. My two boys love me for it. I’m a mindful mom when I can bring all my senses to be present.
I like to think of my mind as a double-edged thing. It exudes strength when it’s fixated and a complete disaster when it strays. The latter is largely the problem. But there’s nothing a self-control can’t fix. So I’ve been practicing. To be more present.
It hasn’t been easy. Not with a bouncing mind. But I’m improving.
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