Parenting is hard.
Everything about it is hard. We are raising living, breathing, actual human beings who will spend years and years sucking the energy right out of us and demanding that we constantly feed them… And then… just like that.. they will be gone. No more waking up with your toddler’s butt cheek parallel to your face (why am I laying in a puddle? Oh it’s pee). No more explaining why butter can not be the main dish for dinner. No more requests to make up magical, action packed bedtime stories on the spot. If the thought of that does not make you snivel, then you might be Chuck Norris.
Every mother knows what I am talking about. We all have our days of clenching onto our child’s lifelong stuffed monkey while rocking back and forth in a corner sobbing in self pity at the thought of MY LITTLE BABIES NOT NEEDING ME ANYMORE.
We all have those days.
I have been known to write too long of a mushy, proud mommy status, on Facebook. No shame, by the way. I am a damn amazing (not perfect) mother. I cringe at the word perfect. I’m still learning and I’m blessed to have two kids to grow up with. I am a passionate mother and that makes me fierce beyond recognition, even when i feel like I’m failing as a mom.
The mind boggling part of motherhood is how the one thing that a mother is so strong for (her children), is the first ones that will bring her to her knees. We are mothers, hear us roar! And then your son tells you there is no where in the world he would rather be than with you. And back to the corner I go to rock and cry at the thought of him being a teen, wanting to spend his free time with his friends. I am mother, hear me cry? PARENTING IS SO HARD. As much as I’d love to keep them to myself forever, I’m selfless enough to know that they need to spread their wings. I am a crucial part of their lives but I know I can’t keep them to myself forever. It is a part of them growing up. Excuse me while I go back to my corner.
You’re not alone walking the streets of motherhood. Throughout my posts there will be cursing, questioning, laughing, thanking and all the feels. Read my blogs and we can cry over spilt milk together. For the record, who ever said that there is no point in crying over spilt milk has never spent 2 hours unclogging their milk ducts just to accidently knock over the 2 ounces they managed to get out. Oh my poor nipples.
Welcome to my ‘hood.