Why I'm Giving Gifts to My Children This Christmas

His eyes are the eyes of a thousand sleepless nights and I’ve never seen such shadows on a four-year-old boy. “Who is that?” I whisper to Trent while the children’s choir sings and the church is decked out in holly and ivy and Jesus in a manger.

“That’s one of the *Fritz boys,” he tells me, and I turn back to the boy with the tired eyes and I’m crying. He and his brothers and sisters lost their mama recently, and mothers make Christmas, and I want to run up front and pick them up and rock them happy. Forever.

As we're coming up on our final shopping days before Christmas, I wanted to share with you some stocking stuffer or small gift ideas for the girlfriends, teachers or family members in your life! (Or ya know, maybe to slip into your own stocking as well!) 

These products are tried, tested and beauty blogger approved, and will most definitely make the perfect little gift for the ones you love!

Here at The Better Mom our passion is to encourage and affirm women in their role as a mother by sharing testimonies, providing resources, and extending hope to all those in need. And if we are being completely honest all moms are in need of these things on a regular basis. We are all on our own unique journey, yet we all can relate to the truth that parenting is a challenge as well as a great reward!

"Sometimes I feel like I'm failing because I'm not joyful all the time." This was written to me by a friend of mine in a Facebook message, but I could have written it myself.

I think perhaps I tend to think of joy as "happiness" but it's not. There are many times when I'm honestly not exactly sure what joy looks/feels like.

Lately, however, as I combat an underlying spirit of anger and anxiety, I'm asking God more and more to show me what true joy is, because I'm obviously confused.

We sit together in the waiting room of the oral surgeon's office, my son fighting the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

"Will they do anything today?"  he asks for the fifteenth time.

"I don't think so, honey.  They're just looking at your teeth today."  I sigh.  The dentist had referred us to the surgeon for a likely surgery.

"What does that IV thing feel like?  Does it hurt?"

"Bud, we already talked about this so many times.  It's not very bad."

"Did it hurt when you got one?  How old were you?"

"Buddy, remember, I had that little surgery a few months ago.  I was fine.  It just hurts a little bit.  I've done it every time I have a baby too.  I'm always ok."

Tears start flowing and he desperately wipes them away.  

When I gave birth to my first daughter, I prided myself on my preparation. My husband and I visited the hospital months before my due date, took Childbirth classes, researched all our pain management options and developed a detailed birth plan that even included our wishes for daddy to cut the umbilical cord and instructions to not give our baby a pacifier. When the day arrived, we were warm, secure and surrounded by an incredible medical staff. My doula spoke words of encouragement and massaged my ankles, my husband held my hand. Monitors beeped into the night keeping pace with my daughter's heart rate. I knew I was cared for. I felt safe.

I would love to sit across from you this afternoon, to sip tea and to hear about the day you became a mama. Whether we first held our babies after childbirth or an adoption, we'd no doubt nod our heads and squeeze each other's hands, as we recognized a little of our own story in one another. 

Mothers in the slums of Uganda, though? Well, they would have something all together different to share.