Being a mother brings out the best and the worst in me.
Sometimes all I want is to cuddle with my son.
Sometimes I just want to hide in the bathroom and lock the door just to be alone and untouched for once.
Sometime I am hyper-vigilant in watching him, to the point that I can catch him before he starts to fall.
Sometimes I look away too long and he falls hard.
Sometimes he is so clean and shiny and he smells wonderful.
Sometimes I can’t remember his last bath.
Sometimes I will read him books over and over again for hours on end.
Sometimes I just hand him books to play with so I can do something else.
Time spent being a mother is time spent tearing yourself in half between selfishness and selflessness. You feel like your identity is in your child and feel lost when you don’t have them near to hold. You want to do everything “right” and never fail. You don’t want others to see your mistakes for fear that they view you as bad at mothering. You will never please everyone, least of all your own self.
Sometimes you pour all your love into one defenseless, little person.
Sometimes you cry.
But that’s motherhood.