One beautiful autumn afternoon we were playing out in the back garden.  I was raking together the leaves that had fallen from our maple tree into a pile and my daughter was doing her best job at running through the pile, kicking the leaves and scattering them everywhere.  I know the real reason why Heavenly Father created deciduous trees – it is so his children could thrive in joy as they kick the fallen leaves about.

I will never forget the purity and simplicity of her impressionable and logical mind when I explained to her that as the maple leaves change colour from a luscious green to royal red and gold in autumn when the weather starts to cool, the leaves fall off the tree.  My daughter, in her beautiful line of thinking, proceeds to pick up a handful of the fallen leaves, walk over to the maple tree and stick them back onto the trunk of the tree.

This scene has left a permanent impression on me.  It captures the innocence and sensibility of her thought process.  It reminds me of the importance of my role in teaching her, allowing and encouraging her to encounter things first hand.  It helps define the childhood I want her to experience.

Being a mother is by far the greatest achievement I have.  I love and relish the responsibility Heavenly Father has given me in raising some of his daughters.  I am their teacher,  their best friend,  their playmate,  their storyteller,  their dancing partner and their cheerleader.

It never ceases to amaze me -  the brilliant intuition of Heavenly Father’s divine plan in bestowing upon women the sacred role and responsibility of being a mother.  I know that if we didn’t experience 9 months worth of ups and downs, we wouldn’t appreciate to the same degree the joy, happiness and love therein.  In some respect, we need the pain, discomfort, stretch marks and sickness to completely understand and embrace the joy, happiness and beauty of the mother and child bond.  I savour the reciprocal nature of the relationship between a mother and her child.  It is established at birth and will continue forever.  I need her as much as she needs me.  As she grows, I grow.  As she learns, I learn.  As she discovers, I discover.  Therefore, the more that she is doing, the more I am too.

I have come to the conclusion that:

§    Sand belongs in a baby’s nappy

§    Dirt is small and gritty so that it will fit under tiny fingernails

§    Grazes on a child’s knee is an indicator of fun and play

§    Unsuspecting snails are asking for it

§    White couches are actually blank canvasses

§    Spaghetti bolognaise tastes so good, that it makes sense to share it with the floor too

§    The family cat makes an excellent substitute dolly if you want to push something around in your toy stroller, especially when dolly is nowhere to be found

§    The only food ducks eat is white bread that has been handed out by small children – and, if it’s good enough for the ducks, it’s good enough for the kids too

§    Bath-time isn’t bath-time unless you are in the bath too and bath-time isn’t over until your child’s skin is as wrinkly as a prune

§    Rain falls purely for the purpose of making puddles

§    Mud-baths are free and the best kind can be found on the shores of Lake Jindabyne

I adore the way her face lights up when she shines a torch on a ring-tail possum that is eating fruit from a tree, or when the pitch and enthusiasm of her voice heightens as she learns how to say, ‘duck, duck, goose’ or when she recounts to her daddy how she went on a bushwalk with mummy and found a lizard basking on a warm rock. 

I enjoy seeing the fascination in her eyes as she sidles up next to me whilst I’m mashing bananas for banana bread,  or the pride in herself as she presents to me the very first egg her chickens have laid.  And I can never tire of watching my babies drift off to sleep in my arms whilst I sing to them,  ‘A Child’s Prayer’.

I can never breathe in the smell of a newborn baby or touch the softness of her skin enough.  There is nothing sweeter than the sound of baby feet running up and down the hallway, coupled with giggling and interspersed with cries of, ‘Roo, roo!’  We all join in as our kangaroo family hops up and down the hall, pretending to be kangaroos dancing to the tune of ‘Tie me kangaroo down, sport’.  Her limitless energy and sense of imagination – the very belief that she can be whatever she wants to be, is a characteristic I want to nurture and encourage.

I love coming home to a house that has crayon drawings of her family scattered everywhere, where the dining room now accommodates a cubby house in which lunch is served and all the teddy bears are invited and where our bedroom is a sanctuary for reading about the adventures of naughty Peter Rabbit eating the vegetables from Mr McGregor’s garden.  It is the joy in the discovery, the experience, the learning and the playing that I want to define the childhood my children have.

I know there is nothing more beautiful in this world and nothing that fills my heart with such joy, happiness and peace than a baby who looks up and smiles at you, as if to say, ‘you are my whole world, you are my mother’.

                                                  
       

Our Heavenly Fathers plan is perfect - I cannot doubt it.  I do have one alteration I'd like to make though…. Our children grow too fast. The days come and go too quickly.  I wish I could have my house under constant video recording so I could capture every moment that will soon be forgotten.  Their precious childhood won't last forever.  For them,  I am their hero,  their favourite toy,  and their favourite person,  their best friend in the whole world.  I am the only one who can kiss their scrapes and sores away,  soothe their broken heart.   No one can watch their tricks like I can, or snuggle up and laugh at their cartoons.  I get to teach them how to walk,  how to talk and how to love.  I get to be this special person.   This hero, the one they call mother.  Such a small part of my life that I will cherish when I'm old and grey- a time that for me, will come too quickly.  I want to create a childhood that I hope they will remember forever.

We are all mothers and the way we mother is so different.  The childhoods we create vary.  We all have our own things we cherish, goals we focus on, values we teach.  What childhood do I want to create?  What will my children remember?

I want them to remember a mother who was always there.  Always home.  Always with them.  A mother who would lay in bed for  hours every morning and cuddle them as we watch the morning cartoons, a  mother whose bed  would  be shared with a dirt bike or an Ariel doll.   A bed that could transform into a cave,  a boat or a dirt bike track. 

I want them to remember a mother who would let them exercise their own independence as they  choose what to wear for the day.  Sometimes we spend the day with spiderman,  or superman,  or a ninja turtle,  or a princess or fairy or various animals.  Sometimes its regular clothes, or sometimes the pajamas suited best, as today they wanted it to be a lazy day.

A mother who spends the morning playing.  Watching the new tricks on the trampoline,  exploring the garden for new flowers or bugs,  a mother who kicks a ball or finds new places to hide.   A mother who sits and plays with the doll house,  dresses and undresses the babies,  who builds train tracks or creates cities out of blocks.  A mother who would watch them ride their bike or push them on a swing at the park.  Someone who colours in and hangs their artwork.  A mother who paints little girl' s fingernails and shares  lipgloss and lays with them as they make beaded necklaces.  A mother who plays games like duck duck goose and hide and seek.  A mother who would put music on with them and just dance.

A mother who lays on a sandy towel at the beach and buries little feet.  Someone who goes shell collecting and exploring through the rock pool.  A mother who runs from the waves, makes sand angels and judges the best sand castle.

A mother that just sits and talks with them,  while we have a picnic lunch on the back deck.   A mother who answers all the questions about why the clouds are there or why traffic lights change colour.   A mother that teaches them to give the last bite to someone else and teaches them to share all they have.

A mother who loves the Savior.  A mother who tells them the stories of Jesus and all He created specially for them.  A mother who has a terrible voice but will openly sing primary songs.  A mother who lays and reads books and tells stories.  A mother who tells them they can conquer the world.  A mother who tells them where they came from,  how precious they are and that Heavenly Father specifically chose them to come to me.

A mother who is firm in discipline but yet full of cuddles, love and assurance.  A mother who makes their bodies rest every day after lunch so they can be happy and have energy to play.

A mother that would never let her children fight.  A mother who would always makes them kiss and make up.

I want them to remember a mother who wasn’t governed by jobs.  But would quickly do dishes as they sat and had a treat at the bench, or hang washing as they played outside.  A mother that rewarded help when the kids would set the table or fold tea towels or put shoes where they live.  A mother that would help them race as they put toys away and cleaned their  room.

A mother that cooked.  A home that always smelt of cookies,  cinnamon rolls or cakes.  I want them to remember times when they would lick beaters or stir the dinner.  A mother that would let them sit on her lap while she sewed.

A mother that was peaceful and happy.   

A mother that would sit with them by the window as daddy drove up the driveway.  A childhood where daddy coming home was the most exciting part of the day.  A mummy that loved daddy and would always give him a smile, kiss and hug hello.   A mother that tried to do anything she could to make daddy's life a little bit easier.

A mother who would sit and read scripture stories to them every night before bed.  A mother who would lay with them and talk about the new baby coming to our family straight from heaven.  Who would tuck them in and give them a kiss and help them with their prayers.  A mother that would sit and tickle their back or climb into bed with them and just cuddle as they fell asleep.  A mother who would kneel beside her bed and pray for them.

A mother who loves them….. no matter what.

This is the mother I want my children to remember.  A childhood where their mother was always always there.  A mother who was their best friend.          

 I want them to have a childhood they never forget.

 Rebecca