This is a paper daisy chain created to countdown the days to a family's Disney vacation. I found it on Pinterest.
A few months ago, if I saw something like this, I would immediately think, "Oh, Geez! No normal mom has time for that! I would never put forth that much effort on something so silly!" And I wholeheartedly believed that. I knew I'd be a fantastic mother who would love her children with every breath. But I'd be the mother who's sink was full of dirty dishes, who's floors were covered in children's toys, and who's bed always needed making. I'd be the mother who would get out the fingerpaint and then forget to put it away until the cat knocked it onto the floor. I'd be the mother who baked cupcakes with her kids and not for them, and then sat with them on the couch to eat, covered in sprinkles and frosting. My house would never be immaculate. My kids' clothes would rarely match because - really - who cares? I wouldn't make coordinating magazine holders out of cereal boxes and contact paper. I wouldn't stamp my own greeting cards. And I wouldn't create a daisy chain counting down to a vacation. Nothing about my motherhood would even remotely resemble Martha Stewart. It's not me. I'm messy and disorganized. I'm spontaneous and excitable. I'm artsy, but not crafty. The thought of making something like the picture above fills me with a twitchy irritation. So much repetition. So many pointless details. It makes me squirmy.
But, I would trade everything I am for another chance. I would be whatever mother you want me to be if I could have my Kenley back. In a fraction of a heartbeat, I would transform myself into Donna Reid if it meant I could start over. I'd make every bed with hospital corners with quarter-bouncing abilities. I'd prepare a five course meal every night, and then scrub every dish till they shined - and then I'd scrub them some more. I'd put curlers in my hair and stockings on my legs. I'd scrub every inch of my house with a toothbrush every day. I'd organize and label everything in my closet, alphabetize my pantry, and create a "craft room" so I could make daisy chains for any event my children could anticipate. I won't ever sleep again, I don't care. I'd do anything. I think it's a fair trade. Everything I am for everything she could be. I just want her back. I wasn't ready to let her go - and I know I can do a good job. I can! Please...just give her back to me.