Becoming

Somewhere along the way, I have become a mother.  I don't mean on the day my first daughter was born when it seemed so weird to say "that's my daughter," or the time that I fumbled through teaching her to walk or even when I introduced her to her younger sister-because I don't think that it happened in one moment.

I think it was a million little failures, fears and maybe 100 successes.  I think that I knew that I was their mother, but I didn't understand that, at the core of my being, I AM a mother.  I think that living in the neverending, messy confusion of early motherhood and waiting for something to happen, something to change, I didn't feel the subtle and important changes happening in my core.

When my eldest daughter was born she was beautiful and disgusting-all covered in goo and blood and screaming.  I looked at her and marveled at her perfection and immediately thought "Oh shit, I have to take her home."  I was completely terrified and projectile vomited all over my hospital room after eating two purple popsicles and didn't sleep again for 3 years and still I craved her snuggles, smiles, words, and laughter.  Somewhere, I started to feel that mother-ness...

Maybe it was when my youngest was born and I felt like my heart was going to explode with joy when I saw my two beautiful girls together.  Maybe it was teaching my littlest and last baby the same things I had taught my eldest, and having her happily help her sister.  Maybe it was just a culmination of experiences, laughter, tears and exhaustion that finally makes me feel that I am more than just me.
Motherhood is transcendent.  It is really realizing that you are not who you were before.  You can never be that person again.   You can't be that person who didn't understand how your mom could have been soooooo mean to you that time.  Oh, you understand.  Mom, I totally get it.  Even more than that, you know why she came to everything for you-all of your concerts, games, so many sports things sitting on those horrible bleachers, and she was the ultimate fan of whatever you were doing at the time.  That is being a mother.

Being a mother is knowing that you can never, ever be the same person you were before your children were born, because they have helped you grow into something that is more complicated, more beautiful, better than before.

I don't know when it happened, but at some point I became not just me, but a mother, and it is terrifying and wonderful and frustrating and every other adjective you could think of.
But I wouldn't change a second of it.

Learning from the Children

My daughters are tightly coiled balls of ever increasing energy.  My eldest daughter does not just get out of bed in the morning (or stumble, flailing until I find my glasses, swearing at the sun for rising, my dog for getting in my way, the coffee for not already being made, etc.).  No.  She wakes up in the morning, leaps to the end of her bed, jumps from her bed to the floor, and skips...skips!  down stairs.  She skips every where.  She skips all day long.  She skips to the bathroom, she skips to the kitchen to get a yogurt, she skips or runs but hardly ever walks.

My husband and I were discussing this the other day.  We noticed that her first choice is to always skip between tasks. We both watched her skip into the bathroom and as she left the room, we were both smiling and laughing.  Watching her skipping brought us joy!  We both remarked that we wished that our first thought was to always skip-instead of plodding along as it seems some days.

Our youngest does not just wake up, either.  If, by chance, we have to wake her up she doesn't roll over and groggily greet us with a smile.  She lies on her stomach, flapping and clapping and slapping her feet and hands on her mattress until she springs up, grabs onto the bars of her crib, and jumps up and down.  This whole sequence takes about 5 seconds.  She is ready for action as soon as her eyes open.  She is full of joy and thrilled to greet the day.

Both of my daughters are excited to get on with the next thing, but they are also so happy to be in that moment that they make us happy to be a part of that moment.  They have helped us to find joy in mundane moments and, quite often, cause us to stop, take a look around, and be happy for simple moments. 
I'm not going to pretend that I can alter my bad attitude upon waking up.  I don't know if I am willing to work on that part of me when there are so many other facets of me that need work (such as the part of me that follows through with things, the part of me that cleans the bathroom more often, or the part of me that can focus on things for more than 10 minutes).  However, I am willing to take a little more time and be thankful for small moments of joy and peace and be looking for opportunities to recognize those two things.  Hopefully, in the future, my daughters will remember me as a fun mom whose moments of joy outnumbered the moments of grouchy, flailing anger.