12 March 2015

this is hard.

Except for the magical time when naps overlap, someone always needs me. My body is being drained by pregnancy, breastfeeding, nights of interrupted sleep. And every afternoon, I start to think that if I hear one more whine I will snap. You'll have to visit me in my straitjacket.

I want to do something different. Every day I wash the same dishes, fold the same laundry, gather up the same scattered toys. I want to go somewhere new. I want to take a break.

This mothering gig is no joke, you know?

But then Ellie hurls herself into my arms shouting "hug! hug!" or Zoe ventures a tiny, milky smile in my direction, and I remember, this is a good job. It's a big job. It's an important job. What would their lives be like if I refused to love them? I want to do this.

I think everyone who reads this blog knows that motherhood is difficult, either by personal experience or simply by being an observant human. So I don't write this to enlighten anybody. I'm just writing to say to every other tired, stressed mom out there: me too. When you are up at midnight with a sleepless baby, when your toddler is dumping rice on the carpet, when you can't remember the last time you took a shower and everybody's still wearing pajamas at dinnertime, well, we're in it together.

This is a club of sorts, and you and I are members for life. Even when our babies grow up they will still be ours. We'll still be thinking of them and letting them bump our hearts around. Yes, letting them, because this Having a Child thing was a choice and we walked into this willingly, even if some of us reluctantly. Here we are. God is carrying us all.

And it certainly is hard. There's nothing wrong with admitting that. Talking about it, realizing that you're trudging the same road as a friend, lifts the burden a bit. It is our reality.

Let's just not forget, on the hard days, that the hugs and the milky grins are our reality too.

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