By the window we stand,
watching snow fall.
Cars turn into polar bears
before our eyes, silent and sleepy.
The weight of you is the world in my arms.
We are warm dreams of tomorrow,
the love of all our yesterdays all
wrapped up, as we stand here, our breath
more quiet, more drowsy by the moment.
This is a poem I wrote when Jack was an infant. I realize that it is strange to be posting a poem about snow in the middle of a glorious week of spring, but re-reading it five years later, I can still feel the soft heft of his body in the circle of my arms. Oh! I was so thrilled with him when he was a baby.
If you pay attention to the commercials, magazine ads, and store displays, you would think that every moment of motherhood is thrilling– shiny, new, essential.
Turns out, every moment of motherhood is most definitely NOT thrilling. Some moments are dull and mundane. Some moments are infuriating. And many moments are downright horrifying. Once when we were trying to potty train Jack he threw a potty full of pee at me after repeatedly telling me “I do not want potty learning!” Wiping urine up off my hardwoods, I felt angry and also terrified that I was a failure as a mom.
This past week, I actually spent a lot of time stressing about Mother’s Day. There is always such a build up to it and I feel like I end up exhausted and disappointed by some small tragedy during the day– a tantrum, having to cook, laundry. Then I feel like a total jerk for being let down, when I should really just be thankful for my family.
I mean, how else would I rather be spending Mother’s Day than elbow-deep in bleach, cleaning up the piss and toenail clippings of other people? How blessed am I?
It sounds sarcastic, and I admit, when I first thought the above sentiment, it was sarcastic. Then I challenged myself, somewhat dubiously, saying, but aren’t I lucky to have these crazy slobs to goop up my life? Sure, I wish they could mop up their own messes, but wow- this is the stuff of life.
I am spending Mother’s Day being a mom. And in between the laundry and dishes and grocery shopping, the people I love stopped to show me how much they love me with home made cards, cinnamon buns, flowers, and rings with my babies’ birthstones. I am infinitely blessed.
Being a mom is special and life changing. Every moment of motherhood does not feel special and life changing, but has the potential to be. Even doing the laundry somedays changes my life. In this manner, every day is a day to be a mother, not just this one wacky hallmark holiday per year.
May every moment of your life as a mom be as thrilling as when you first beheld your newborn.
Happy Mother’s Day, and momaste- the mom in me bows to the mom in you!