On the eve of my very first Mother's Day, I was contemplating the joys of motherhood. I had a particularly strong moment of motherly elation yesterday as I power walked Aiden home in the stroller. 'This is not so bad,' I thought, my dirty hair tucked under a baseball cap and my hungry stomach grumbling. Tired, sweaty and hungry, I was so utterly happy. We had just been to the park together with a mommy friend and her son. It was our first park 'play date,' and it felt like the early days of summer that leave you thirsting for more yet dreading the heat that is to come... and all the while I kept thinking, 'this is so fun. I love this... what was my life like before?'
Needless to say, about six hours later I was reminded what my life used to be like when I submerged from Mommy Land, wearing real (sexy) clothes and entering a local bar with a girlfriend. Ah, so this is what I have been missing, I mused, sipping a home brewed beer and eating fried artichoke hearts, laughing. I felt at ease and relaxed. Okay, I admit, I was a bit envious watching other women (and moms) who I imagine get out more often. But I realized that I love my life. I am, for the first time in months, content in my stay-at-home-single-motherhood- all sleep deprived, broke and spit-up ridden hours of my daily existence.
However, today was, in all honesty, a bad day. The baby was teething and quite fussy. There were no naps to speak of, only brief snoozes that gave more anxiety rather than respite otherwise known as the how-long-will-this-last feeling you can never shake thus accomplishing little). After dinner, I knew we could not skip another day without a bath, so I plugged in the heater, prepared the washrags, stripped down the munchkin and started bathing. Then it hit me: giving my son a bath is not a chore, but a joy. Watching the myriad of expressions dance across his face as the water splashes onto his body is priceless.
What they say is true (and crazy at the same time): enjoy this time, because they (ie our kids) grow up fast. Although I wish somtimes that the baby could do this or I secretly wish he will grow to do that, I will miss these times, the loving newborn moments that cannot be repeated.
