My Mother’s Day flowers are somehow keep on keeping on. Mary and I were admiring them this afternoon. “Is it hard to be a mama?” she asked. “Yes it is,” I answered. “But also really wonderful.” And that’s the truth.
It’s a work in progress. My kids are a work in progress. I for sure am a work in progress. Whoever first said “This too shall pass” was wise – wise as he or she who coined the phrase, “It doesn’t get any easier, just different.” Mothering is magnetic in that it draws to the surface hidden weaknesses and strengths. Each year gets more exciting, and trying, and enlightening. Every day is an adventure – equal parts thrilling and intimidating. I never know from one minute to the next what new stage we’ll enter into or how I’ll respond to those evolving stages and resulting parenting conundrums. Just this past week, I heard the following pour forth from my mouth:
Whose filthy socks are on my desk?
Don’t squeeze that baby chicken.
It might be tough for me to find a leprechaun suit at this late hour.
Why does it smell like pee in here?
Don’t dish out the four square trash talk if you can’t take it.
We are leaving in 5 MINUTES!
Oh wow…so you did your hair all by yourself this morning?
I’m sorry for overreacting.
I’m sorry for picking out the negative and ignoring the good.
I’m sorry for losing my temper; mom’s frazzled.
Choose your battles.
That whiney voice hurts my ears.
Love is filtering yourself. You cannot take mean words back.
I am the parent and you are the child. We are not peers.
How exactly do you mummify a hotdog?
That’s an insane amount of powdered sugar.
It’s due tomorrow?!!
I love you with all my heart.
I’m not perfect, but I am present – hellbent on refusing to one day regret having not participated fully in the daily nitty-gritty details of my children’s lives. And I will sacrifice much (money, pride, time, sometimes sanity) to be a mother first and foremost. And it will absolutely, positively, eternally be worth it.