The Contradictions of Motherhood



Ah, the contradictions of Motherhood...
 
Jericho is 1, and I have never had a more snuggly baby. He lays his head on my shoulder, or grabs my face in his hands, kisses me, wide-mouthed and drooly, and my heart really will burst with all this constrained joy. And then he grabs my nose with his baby-talons and scratches and smiles, as if to say, "Whachya gonna do? I'm adorable."
 
Judah is 2, and his courage, his bravery, his absolute disregard for safety, will be the death of my nerves and the reason I go gray at 25. He smashes and crashes and bashes and that's just with his little brother. He leaps from the heights, knowing he could get hurt, not caring, altogether daring. But he is my Mizzo...who still curls up in my arms and exclaims, "I a baby! I wittle! I not big!" And I agree with him 100%.
 

                                             He will hate me one day for this picture
 

Jeremiah is 3, and he argues circles around Trevor and I. How can one so little, so young, know so much of how life works? When the questions and the answers and the talking just keeps coming, and coming...and coming, it makes me want to just cover my ears and hide somewhere quiet.I am trying really hard to cultivate curiosity in his young little mind, for I know this will take him far in life. He is brilliant, and I ache with pride.
 
Being a Mama brings me so much joy, so much frustration, so much stress and peace. One of life's mysteries, how you can love someone so incredibly much at one moment, revel in their "I wuv yooo"'s, and then want to scream at them to be quiet for just one blessed second the very next. How you can not get to your car fast enough, to have some time away from the littles who drain you of all your heart's energy and motivation, and then as you walk down the isles and sip your coffee, all you can think about is their laugh as you tickled them earlier that day, or their soft skin as you cuddled them after nap, and you can't get home fast enough.
 
I say, "I'm done. I don't want any more. I have way too much to handle already." And it's true, when I say it. Then not 20 minutes later, as the boys are running around Trevor and I, and they laugh and we smile at each other, the words come easily, "Why did we ever think we were done? How could we not have 7 of these?" Then 20 minutes later, as they scream because they are tired, all 3 so little, so full of needs, we are torn again.
 
And you take the seconds of peace, the seconds of quiet, and you hold them delicately, with honor, because you know that it will be chaos soon. Chaos that you have come to understand and...dare I say, love? Because when they are all asleep, and you are left with an empty living room, where they bring so much life and crazy and busyness, you don't really know what to do with yourself...
 
 
Ah, the contradictions of Motherhood. You can't wait for them to hit that next milestone, and yet, you hold them, and breathe in their smell, and you cry, wondering, "Was it really so long ago, that I held you as I welcomed you into my world?" And yet, you can see the men, the women, they are slowly growing into, and you wonder that love created that. That a tiny seed of life can blossom into something so...so marvelous. And you really cannot wait to see what their future brings.


Comments

  1. This is so spot-on. One second I'm telling her to act her age - we don't do that at 3 years old! - and the next I'm cherishing her babyhood by rocking her softly. I so get this.

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    Replies
    1. Haha- YES! I do that as well! Thanks for the comment Miranda!

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