Blake is happy, what we want, appreciating mothers

I think my daughter is in the throws of the post-partum blues. We’ve talked about it so I think I am safe to mention it. With the additional demands of two young children besides the newborn, there is a heightened stress that she seems to have avoided in recovery from past pregnancies. But when it got her this time around, it got her good.
She tells me she was deep in the throws of emotional collapse, sitting on the couch feeding the suckling child when my three-year-old granddaughter snuggled in beside her, she was crying, rather is should say weeping and wondering how she could have seen herself as the “mothering” sort.
I am here to swear that if ever any of my children was given the gift of “mothering” it is this child, but I have five daughters and will have two daughter-in-laws, so let me be careful here. My daughter Cori is my oldest female child and was born the middle child with all the classic tendencies of that spot in the birth order. She maintained those nurturing, mothering tendencies after we adopted children years later.
I am only saying that she is well-practiced, well-suited to the task and whole-heartedly committed to it, perhaps to the point of obsession, but she, like all of the rest if us, is no match for hormone overload.
As Mykenzie, who inherited her mother’s gift crowded up to her crying mother, she simply asked “Mommy, why are you crying? Are you sad?” Yes, I’m sad! You are disobeying and Grant is whiney because he is sick. So you are sad because I have to punish you, Grant is sad because I cannot hold him all the time when he is feeling bad. Everybody is sad. That’s why Mommy is crying.”
“But Mommy”, she quickly pointed out, “Blake is not sad.” They both looked down at the baby who had just gotten his fill and he was smiling at his Mommy with the expressive innocence found only on faces that small, which made his mommy cry even more. Mykenzie couldn’t see but the tears were completely different now. I wasn’t told, but knowing my daughter and her mother, I’m sure she got a kiss for her insightful observation.
My daughter wants what she has. She may want it under different circumstances than what she is experiencing right now, but the years will bring that to pass. These little hardships will be so overshadowed by the laughter to come, that if they are not captured in print, there will be no remembrance of them. That is as it should be.
As we were listening to the three kids we had the other day interact we heard one say with obvious sincerity, “My mom is the greatest!” One of the others made a questioning face; it was almost one of those Art Linkletter faces and my wife challenged her to speak up. She did not want to say.
Now we were in an awkward situation. It is not like we could let the unspoken challenge to such a statement stand without some defense or rebuttal being offered. Reluctantly the child confessed, “Well, it’s just that one time I was going to the bathrooms just as you mother was coming out and she really stunk it up.”
“Yeah,” It was acknowledged, “She does that.”