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To begin with, what kind of mother am I? is the question we should ask our offspring. But, luckily for many mothers, the little ones still cannot speak, much less enter into philosophical dissertations that put us in a hurry. The fact is that you are a new mother and in this motherhood you are still in the trainee scholarship phase, so it is difficult to do self-analysis and determine if we are doing it well or badly. That is why I dedicate myself to observing the different types of moms I meet, to make sure that my training in the most demanding profession in the world is on the right track.
On the one hand you find the 'studied mom'. She is not in a trainee period, she is doing doctorate courses on purees, poop, various baby ailments and infant sleep (or insomnia) methods. She knows everything because she has read it, she has time to document herself with the latest volumes on early stimulation, she has the most sophisticated apps on her mobile to learn about her baby down to the last detail, and she devours magazines and manuals with which to impress her friends. . Talking to her is like sitting at a desk ready to pick up a pencil and paper… but so boring and monotonous that you miss a bit of room for imagination. What would it be like to cope with the first diarrhea on your own? No, she never lives so on the edge.
Another great example I've come across lately is the 'enthusiastic mom'. The one that makes you feel bad in the playground for sending messages with your mobile while your "little one" is thrown down the slide. Instead, she is playing "the three little pigs and the wolf" not only with her son, but with four or five other children whom she has probably met for the first time today. There he is, with his tracksuit and his trainers, running after all of them, hiding here and there and looking at you with complicity without knowing that, despite your stupid smile, inside you are thinking: perhaps I am a worse mother because I do not pretend that we are going to fly through the air when the wolf blows the IRON house in the park?
And finally, there is the 'trendy mom'Or that's what I call it. The one that combines the color of her clothes with the pram bag that, of course, has the name of her stem embroidered. The one who wears stilettos even though they get stuck in the rubber floor of the park. Her girl does not trample her pants when she tries to climb her to get her sunglasses, in which, by the way, she will leave a perfect imprint of her five little fingers. They do not rub a piece of biscuit on her jacket or sneeze at her with a mouthful of fruit mush. He comes home as he leaves, but usually it is because he has taken the babysitter to the park to deal with the earthquake.
And then there are us. Yes, those who are like me, who hardly have time to read how much they would like, not about children, not about other things, who try to feel beautiful while being practical and who, above all, value time that they spend with their children as if there was no tomorrow, even if they do not have much grace to invent their own stories and stories. Best of all, being vain, if we asked them, I'm sure they'd say we're the best mom they could have.
Galletero Nativity Scene
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