I have been a mother for longer now than the time I was trying (and failing) to become one. Double the time in fact. You would think I would be used to it by now, and I am. There are many days where I am so immersed in the mothering that it is all I can see, think and feel. And then there are moments where I have little flashbacks to the time where I wondered if I would ever have children. Ordinary sights and sounds that make me stop, catch my breath, and let the realization wash over me that I am a mother! I have children! Three of the buggers in fact. Something I feared might not ever happen. The trauma was (relatively) short but it was deep.
The moments come randomly. Stepping over Kate’s abandoned school shoes lying on the bathroom floor (those school shoes belong to a girl who calls me Mom), seeing Max’s red wellington boots at the sliding door (boots that belong to a little boy who wraps his arms around me at night and tells me how much he loves me), filling in a form that asks for parents to volunteer at a cake sale (a cake sale to raise money for a school attended by a boy who is becoming a teenager and yet who still wants his mom to work at the cake sale so he can sneak a quick hug during school time).
10 years later and I *still* get that delicious thrill, that butterfly-in-the-tummy feeling when I realize about how lucky I am.
Of course, five minutes later I am ready to kill them and run away to a deserted island, just me and my Chardonnay. Because although I love them dearly and being their mother is the most significant (and challenging) thing I have ever done, there is no denying they can be a giant PITA sometimes.
This is a portrait Kate draw of her family. Don’t you love how I am so huge and the rest of the family is looking so lovingly at me? I think it speaks volumes. I am so very lucky.
I do love my darling little PITAs very much. xx