Mother’s Day was lovely. On the down side, Josh was on call. On the up, my family was in town and we spent the whole day at two different family gatherings. I got to hang out with my own mother on the actual day, which is pretty rare. And it was really nice.
As the endless stream of Insta-love and Facebook hyperbolizing rolled by, I did some deep thinking about motherhood. I thought about how much becoming a mother has changed my life, and how much it has changed me. Answer to both: a lot.
I never knew how your children could actually feel like a part of you, even years after delivery. How amazing it would be to see a face in real life that looked so much like your husband’s baby pictures. How beautiful their laughter would sound, especially together. How infuriating a protesting toddler can really be (VERY). How strong a 14 month old can be when protesting a diaper change (also VERY). How exhausting they can be, both mentally and physically. How hearing a joyous “mommy!”/”mama” upon entering the door never gets old.
I know so much more now than I did 3 years ago, and every day I’m adding to my collection of lessons. I may be getting incrementally wiser, but I know I’ll never catch up and become any sort of expert. Because as soon as I seem to ‘get’ one phase, the game changes.
I am definitely not a perfect mother. I get angry, I get bored, and I crave breaks and me-time. But my love for my 2 is visceral and just . . . a force. I can feel it when I gaze at them, C’s face adorned with breakfast crumbs and A in a tattered Elsa costume. I am looking forward to many many mothers days to come, as this love continues to grow and evolve as they do.
Just a regular morning.
2 Comments
Sweet post. I was struck by the fact you mentioned that you sometimes felt bored—I couldn’t pinpoint what I was feeling much of last weekend, but BORED was exactly right! Answering the SAME endless questions about the same thing (princesses) and fielding a million demands for popsicles and cookies and new coloring sheets. I kept wanting to escape into my phone or a book. It seems incongruous to be bored when you are doing a million things at once, but none of it was particularly stimulating or novel, so I guess it makes sense. Some weekends/evenings/moments are amazing, but some aren’t, and I guess that’s OK. All the more reason I was SO GLAD I had something engaging to return to on Monday.
I think even perfect mothers want breaks and me time!