It's not like it used to be

It’s not like it used to be.

Hugs are not as frequent as they once were. I have to ask for them some days.

Sometimes she doesn’t want me to pick her up when she’s with friends. I have to carry her to the car.

I am not always the one she runs to first. And some nights I’m the last one she wants to put her to bed.

She’s bigger now.

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Beautifully weird

Motherhood is beautifully weird.

I feel like I’m drowning most days, yet I am floating on cloud nine generally.

Those little people I get to raise are the best. Even on my worst days - the days where I am well and truly in the depths of being a human being asked to do superhuman things and it all gets a bit much - my love for them never waivers. Neither does theirs, although I don’t feel like I always deserve it.

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Dear husband...

Dear husband,

Let me write down what I often struggle to explain, when I am at home with our baby.

I need a break sometimes. And like you, I want something for myself outside of parenting. But it’s not easy for me right now. I’m feeding our baby from my body. And comforting her from simply being there when I’m not.

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Can't live without

I can live without the sleep, although sometimes I feel like death.

I can live without the quiet peaceful home, although sometimes I want just five minutes of it.

I can live without the regular time for myself, although some days I complain about it.

I can live without the tidy home, although sheer overwhelm often gets the better of me.

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Familiar

Everything feels unfamiliar.

My body is so different than before. Maybe it won’t ever be the same. Its softer, saggier, and stronger for what it’s been through. It’s not what I’m used to seeing, and it needs time to adjust. I do too.

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Lost count

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve been awake with them on my chest, because they need to be held through sickness. My own tired hanging on, just. And my love for them giving me the strength to keep holding on.

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The feeling

They say it’s not the things children remember, it’s the way we make them feel.

And I think it’s the same for mothers.

It’s not the washing piled up in the corner we’ll remember. It’s the feeling we get from seeing their little bodies having fun in the clothing we make sure they have.

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Bedtime

I saw a video a while back.

It suggested that mothers who look forward to bedtime, consider their children as burdens.

As a mother of three under four who often looks forward to bedtime these days, here is my response:

I look forward to bedtime some days.

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Meaningful

When everyone is out and about without regard for the day, the time, or how busy the setting is, we often stay behind because it’s easier. Young children on hips, wading through a sea of toys and washing.

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