***I roughly wrote this a few weeks ago and forgot to polish and publish. I decided not to polish it. I like the raw emotion and frustration portrayed by my draft.
Being the Mom is hard. Harder than I ever imagined. Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure being the Dad is tough to, but I can only speak for being the Mom. Some of the things that define my role as mom:
*I am the one they run to when they are hurt
*I am the one who they cuddle with when they are sick
*I read the best stories
*I know the right toys to pack in the church bag
*I don't ever forget the blankies and loves when we go somewhere
*I get the brunt of their anger and crabbiness at the end of a long day
After a wonderful family weekend, it was tough for everyone to go back to the weekly routine. I didn't particularly want to go to work (so much so, that I shut off my alarm this morning - luckily my internal clock did the job instead), the 3 year old cried about going to daycare, and neither boy napped well today. Needless to say, today lived up to every stigma ever put on "Monday."
I worry about my children all day every day. No one told me (or maybe I didn't listen or understand) that once you are a mother, once those children are no longer in your body, under your heart, the worry is just beginning. It is like letting a piece of your heart walk around unattended 24/7...the true meaning of wearing your heart on your sleeve. As a mother, your child's cries make your own heart ache. The injustices of life become twice as painful for a mother because of the inability to protect children from every cruel lesson life has to offer. People I once thought I would give my own life for have now become the same ones I would push in front of a train if it meant I could save my own child. A mother's love knows no rational boundaries. Some days I wish I could be the dad. I don't really know how it feels, but it looks like fun. Shovel snow, wrestle, love mom. Seems much simpler than what I do every day. When I really think about it though, I would never want to give up that bound of mother to child. I carried these children for nine months. I knew them before anyone else but God. I had nine months with them that no other person got to experience. I nursed them every day for over a year and sustained their lives with mine. There are some things I would not give up, even for a day of shoveling and wrestling.