As we washed the dishes my husband looked over to the children and whispered to me “this is what it’s all about”.
So I pulled myself out of my usual trance,
And looked.
Read MoreIt’s 12.58am.⠀
I haven’t been to sleep yet.
A toddler is in our bed, again - Between us, but with his legs prodding me in the back.
Read MoreThey say it’s not the things children remember, it’s the way we make them feel.
Read MoreYou’re a toddler.
And there are a few things you want to tell your mother.
You’re a little older now, but everything still feels new.
Read MoreI am not the hollow eyes. I am the nights holding my babies.
I am not the old crusty clothes. I am the price paid for meeting their needs first.
Read MoreWe have all been young once.
Let me take you back...
You are a baby.
Your mother is the only person you have ever known.
You love her body, her smell, and her clothes even though they are the same as yesterday.
Read MoreI held them first,
But they hold me together every day.
And not physically, although the arms around the neck hugs can make it feel like it sometimes.
It’s what they don’t know they do, and the things I never have to, or would ever ask for them to do.
It’s them. Their innocence. Naivety. And purity.
Read MoreI am a mother before all else.
No matter what else I have done, or do in my life, motherhood will be the role I remember first.
Yet when I’m asked what my occupation is on an enrolment form, I hesitate.
“What do I write here?”
Read MoreTo the mother I judged before I knew.
I judged you for the screen time you gave your toddler in a restaurant. I thought it was “lazy” parenting. I thought that must have been your child’s normal. But what I didn’t know was that getting a toddler to sit restrained for a minute in an overstimulating environment is almost impossible. That it actually may have been one of the few times your child did have screen time, and you got to enjoy a meal. That this was not your normal, but just what you both needed in that moment.
Read MoreTo the mother with babies close in age,
They will tell you you’re crazy. And then laugh to make it appear they’re joking. But it doesn’t always feel like a joke when your body is breaking with exhaustion. It feels like a lot of judgment you don’t need right now.
Read MoreWinning for me looks different right now.
It looks like having a shower before noon.
And managing a hot cup of coffee at all.
Read MoreA letter for one day...
⠀
You were right to think it was hard when they were younger.
Because it was.
Physically you were drained.
You will never feel that level of tired again.
Read MoreI won’t always be covered In children, but I will always be uncovered by memories as their mother.
When I’m in an empty house with dusted surfaces, I will feel warmth as I pass photos on the wall of us in the thick of the early years. And then maybe I’ll pick up the phone and call them.
Read MoreFor what it’s worth,
I think you are an amazing mother.
Your children are lucky to have you.
Read MoreThis is my life mission.
The love I have for my children made sense when I held them all for the first time. But what exactly I wanted to give them and be for them as their mother didn’t.
Read MoreHere she finds herself.
Within four walls, her heart exploding with love for her new creation. Her body fragile from what has been 9 months or more in the making, and hours or more in that final stretch called birth.
Read MoreYou are my third born,
You entered my motherhood years after I’d had practise.
Yet it feels like you have been here forever.
I worried you’d be forgotten in the chaos.
Read More