Mom

I have been a mother for 3 years now. It's hard to remember a life when I wasn't. And it wasn't until I became a mother myself that I understood my own mother more. I get it now. I didn't get it growing up. I certainly didn't get it when I was twelve or fourteen, or sixteen, or even twenty-two. I have always known that my mother loves me, unconditionally, without question. But now, I get it.

I know what it's like now.
I know what it's like to be home all day with the kids, and to try and make breakfast, lunch and dinner for a family. And juggle the mundane chores and tasks that keep a house running.
I know what it's like to have my husband go out to work, and work really hard for our family. And I know how it's hard to lean on him sometimes when I need help because he does work so hard.

I know what it's like to question myself and my mothering, to doubt everything I have done and to not know where to go for the answers.

I know what it's like to feel the weight of these two little lives heavy on my shoulders. And to exhaust every bit of energy into these babies.

I know what it's like to figure it out, to do something that works, to teach them words, and signs, and songs. And to see them surprise me by learning something on their own.

I know what it's like to be consumed by the love for these angels, to see them change before my eyes, to watch them learn and grow and do new things.
And then to miss the smell and feel of the babies they were.

I know what it's like to feel little arms around my neck and to feel sloppy baby kisses on my mouth. And to feel the pride that comes from knowing that they have succeeded, they have learned, they have accomplished, they have grown.


I get it now, Mom. I get it. Thank you for being such a wonderful mother and for being the example of the kind of mother I want to be.