Jan 31, 2015

motherhood

brittandhive.com: a momma and her son

My dear friend Abby wrote a post a little bit ago about what motherhood is - that is what motherhood is to her and her son, in this particular moment. It was so beautiful to be able to peek into her day to day. It was even more beautiful to realize that motherhood is completely different for me; and for everyone. Even now, I'm sure life with C now is infinitely different than being his mom will be a month from now. Still, as she prompted, I was compelled to share what motherhood is to me - now.

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Motherhood is sleep in eyes, and gummy smiles. It is the morning sun peeking through the blinds and kissing us, as I kiss his cheeks. It is juggling the refrigerator door, the yogurt, my juice - all with one hand. All with one hand because just one second apart would bring early morning tears. Motherhood is nursing in an empty living room whilst attempting to keep flailing baby fingers out of my breakfast. Mostly, motherhood is drinking cold tea - because I always end up forgetting it someplace else.


Motherhood is a desperate search for the nearest burp rag. And wearing the same pants three days in a row. It is cooing - and singing - and reaching around seats to calm a reluctant passenger. Eventually crawling over the seats to show him a non-stop loop of that video of him in the bath splashing. And sometimes that means that motherhood is quiet.

Motherhood is natural. It is instinctual and personal. Motherhood is ignoring the pressures and expectations of those around you - drowning them out with baby coos and silly songs. It is doing whats right for your baby. Even when its hard. Even when its tough. Motherhood is chasing that next high. First it's the smiles, then the giggle and laughs... followed by attempts to draw words from his lips. Motherhood is doing anything to get him to do that one more time.

Motherhood is about milestones. It's about cheering and clapping - and texting everyone you know to tell them the news, and then crying about it in the shower later. It's holding on tight to those little fingers, and then waiting for the perfect moment to let them go. Holding loosely, knowing that things can change. Will change. And when they do change, knowing that you are doing it right. (But still crying about it in the shower later.)

Motherhood is a bunch of tiny (seemingly) insignificant moments all patched together like a tacky scrapbook. It's not always pretty, but when you take a step back to look at it: it's complete. Motherhood is messy and confusing and beautiful all at once. 

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