Wednesday, January 20, 2010
I never imagined all the feeling and downright angst that goes into having a child. My son is the world to me and makes my heart twist and turn with that gleam in his eye. My chest cavity actually hurts when I look at him sometimes because of the love and pure emotion that runs through me. Today he is 22 months and 8 days old. A lot of hard work, tears, intense ups and downs, worrying, laughter, second guessing, and (did I mention worrying?) has gone into the last 22 months and 8 days. Motherhood, in addition to the impact it can have on a marriage, was way more than I had originally bargained for. And I wouldn’t take any of it back. It is my journey and my family’s journey, and even though some days and weeks can seem very long, most of it flies by and we must remind ourselves that we’ve really only just begun. There will still be many nights ahead when we wonder if there will be any tiny amount of energy left to enjoy retirement and an empty nest. Just as there are nights that I am sappily, hopelessly grateful that my son wants to cuddle and I hope it lasts for hours. As I write this, I am enjoying the last day of a 3 day weekend. I am yet again ignoring the need for a workout. I can hear Nick Jr. in the distant background downstairs. I feel gluttonous as I have sequestered myself away with the laptop upstairs in my bedroom and a single vodka cranberry cocktail. I can hear my husband and son outside doing what boys do best – playing with tools and cars, crawling around on the ground getting dirty. My purring cat looks gloriously content to be enjoying a moment alone with me. Before a full time job, motherhood, and (this new term I discovered) “housewifery” takes its toll each day, I will try to reclaim my desire to create, write, and BE who I am-even for one small column a day!