i've walked away from this post several times. it's hard to write without the fear of judgement.
i feel selfish and impatient. some nights i lay awake recalling the events of the day with tears in my eyes.
i didn't feel so alone. so guilty.
i am fairly new at this 'mom' thing.
there's a whole bunch of this 'stuff' swirling around in my brain. 'enjoy the moment' 'they grow so quickly' 'don't you just love it?' 'my kids are my WORLD' 'i miss those days'... and it becomes this jumble of pain and anxiety and excitement and remorse. i just keep thinking... i'm not enjoying it enough. which somehow translates to... i don't love them enough. which i know is silly. even writing it right now seems a little dramatic. but there are these underlying feelings.
the other day my mom called. she said... i don't miss those days. she meant the sick babies, teething, after school melt downs. i felt completely validated. i felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders in that moment. that is it 'okay' to admit that it is hard. that perhaps in twenty years i won't feel great sadness that this part is over.
and then my brilliant 'club mommy' friend said this, 'some people remember the early days as hard days but most women think about them and only remember the happy thoughts. it's crazy because that's what is meant to happen. we are supposed to forget all of it so we want to do it again.'
i am truly blessed to have strong, smart women in my life i can confide in. who support me without judgement. who give me perspective.