The losing and finding of all the pieces has been this motherhood journey for me. I’ve lost the sideline dreams of a career of some sort (for now, you know) and I’ve found this perpetual challenge of walking alongside my munchkins.
Sitting with their tired tantrums and wishing I knew exactly the right way to end the power struggles or simply begin the happier mama moments that make life work well around here.
I’ve lost some inhibitions and gained others. I’ve lost the perspective of a childless person and perpetually think in relationships now.
It’s a circled strand of family and friends and time and giving and taking as we all support each other a little more carefully here.
We feel the fragile moments of our hours and theirs a little more easily.
And we know just how hard it is when you let someone be as close to you as your children.
I lose my own self a little bit. I’m not so much my own person as I am their person, even in these quiet hours of after-bedtime I am thinking through the art and lens of mothering well.
But somehow that’s not a loss actually. The things I lost were less than this. And this is greater.
I find myself here in motherhood. I mother, I write, I carry close, I make cookies and rolls and dole out graham crackers by the sleeve.
But I am still myself even here in this overwhelming mama life.
I’ve just lost some of the unimportant pieces and gained some more lovely ones.