There are moments...
when being a parent, being a mom
feels like a burden.
You are tired, hungry, and dirty.
Your brain is functioning at a level unsafe to walk up and down stairs...
let alone make sure other living creatures survive and thrive.
You find your self in a deeply heated argument at lunch time.
Fists clenched and jaw tight...
all over a preschooler wearing pants.
And you are in the same get-up from the day before.
Last night you were up pleading.
Quietly begging a little two-toothed monster for mercy.
For sleep.
Just one more hour, before his sister wakes up.
Fifty minutes later, his eyelids fall.
Tonight, both kids are sleeping and you realize we are almost out of milk.
Without milk there will be no apple oh's for breakfast...
or chocolate milk to bribe sister's silence as you rock the fussy teething baby to nap.
Before leaving to make a grocery run...
you scratch some unnamed, dried, crusty spot from the leg of the afore mention getup.
Check your face in the mirror and seeing the circles, find your biggest sunnies and head out...
in the pouring rain.
It is too dark to see with them on, so they stay in the car.
As you grab essentials and a family sized bag of chips... just for you...
you run into 2 people you know and try to catch up with quickly...
all the while thinking how cute their eyeshadow and high heels look.
Once home and sitting with your chips, searching for the remote...
you see a huge white crusty pile dried to your shoulder.
The shoulder of a very black shirt.
Nice.
Finding the remote, you hear a fuss and half cry.
The teether will need soothing, but you guess you have a few minutes.
Before those minutes pass, the preschooler is screaming.
When you give in and go in her room, she says...
Hi mommy. Are you napping? I love you.
After laying down the bedtime law...
while thinking how much you love the little terrorist.
You are eventually back with your unopened chips...
and the teether cries... loud.
So you rock and rock.
Come to your senses and medicate...
and rock some more.
You get a sigh and deep breath.
Complete and utter relaxation and trust.
Deeply asleep and heavy in your arms.
And that weight...
the heavy, droopy weight of a sleeping baby...
the toddler declarations of love...
when it is way past bedtime.
They aren't really burdens.
They are quite possibly the lightest loads you could ever carry.
