Being a Mom

mother and children happy image

The word LOVE – it truly has no meaning till you become a parent.

(I know, tomorrow I will turn around and call myself out on this ‘bullshit’ but let me linger on in this moment for today. Let me accept this while I am willing to.)

The love that I feel for my children, it fills me up. It overwhelms me. 
Not just love, every darned emotion I can imagine doubles up, no no, centuples up (quora says that’s the word for hundred times)
I feel rage, sadness, worry, disappointment and heartbreak with the same intensity as love when it comes to my children.

And this is my strength and my biggest failure. Me – as a parent. 

I never imagined myself as one.

I never sat down and asked myself if I wanted to become a mother.

I was worrying about the brand of diapers I must buy before I could weigh in if I was deserving enough or ready enough or responsible enough.

I was in the race to become the best parent before I realised that title was the biggest farce in the world, setting myself up for failure, even before I had entered the challenge.

We have been cursed by our parents enough with the ‘wait till you become a parent‘. If only there was another way to explain the INTENSITY of emotions you can feel as a parent. 
How hard, how moving, how difficult, how impossible it is to feel the way you feel, to hold it in, to reel in it, to succumb to it! 

My LO turns two today.

In the two years, I have lived through every emotion as a parent once again. As we roll over giggle and laugh at his silly antics, or shout in joy as he says a word for the first time, or watch the boys deal with things together, the world is bliss.

As I watch them on the cam, from another city, checking in on them while I should be adulting in their absence, I am overcome by the time I am losing out.

When I home, they drive me nuts with their neediness and constant demands. 

When they tear up, my heart breaks.

As I stand my ground, yell and shout, my heart breaks yet again as I realise I am the reason they started crying in the first place. 

Being a mother is a burden I must carry with me. It is a burden I took up without much thought.

I bear it with pleasure. It is a burden I refuse to put down or let go.
Because I find it hard to separate the mother from the woman. There is no turning back. They are entwined together, forever. 

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