...of my super duper special stamps, anyway.
Before I had children, I was one of *those* judgmental-married-without-children kind of person. The one who sighed when I would see a parent bring their young child and their overflowing diaperbag onto a plane. The one who wondered how "those parents" can't keep their children "under control."
"I would never...."
"If I was that kid's mother..."
"They will have to adjust..."
You get the picture.
So, as you can imagine, I had quite the adjustment when G was first born, accommodating him into our life. I had to.stop.and.think.of.him.first. Soon enough I was taking him, then C, and then R, all three of them gosh-darn-it, on cross country flights and I was on the receiving end of the stares and quiet declarations of irritated people around me.
Life changes when a baby comes into your life.
Who would have thought that one day I would be willing to part with these stamps I have been collecting. As you can see, they are not the run of the mill stamps you can get at the craft store. If you are a stamper, you can probably tell from where you are sitting what collection these are from, and what tedious effort it was for me to cut the stamps out, then stick them *just* right onto the wooden block.
But, when you are a mother of 3, some things just have to give. What was *just mine* - turns into - *you can use it sometimes* - turns into - *you can just have it*. Are these stamps worth a sad crying child, or can I share and be grateful she loves the things I do?
And herein the judgment may be cast, that I shouldn't give in to her whims simply because I want to keep her happy. But then I do ask, that if you insist your child to share their toy with their siblings and their friends, we must learn to share ourselves.
I learn from these children, each and every day, and it is because of them that there can be hardly any more judgments from me.