How do I feel about being a mom. 

I get asked that a lot.... being a childcare giver for most of my adult life, I always swore I would never have kids of my own. Was even told that by 3 different doctors. But, the big man upstairs laughs at that and blesses me with two little men in my life that I get to call my own.

Everyone knows that Elijah's pregnancy was really hard for me to accept for a while. I didn't think that I could accept that I was bringing a life into this mean spirited world. I would say to his father that I didn't think he would make it to age 5; this world would have gone to hell in a hand basket before then. I was scared -- terrified, really-- and this was no news to the dad-to-be or to my family; who really made me feel like I was going to be a horrible mother because I could actually talk this way.

Everyone would annoy me to pieces by constantly telling me when I held this little newborn baby in my arms, I would just be so overcome with love and passion that everything would change- my feelings of being scared or worried or paranoid, as some would say, would subside, and I would be able to concentrate on nothing more than the amazing peace and care and concern I now felt as am official mother. Sometimes I still look at this almost 10 year old child and wonder how the hell did this happen? When did I earn the right to call this child mine? When did the paralyzing fear and worry and feelings of over-protection turn into pure amazing simplified adoration and love? Who is this little person that can step all over my heart- and does, on occasion- but win me over faster than anything with that smile and hug and an "i love you mommy?"

How do I feel about being a mom?

I'll never forget that feeling when you're doing the simplest of things- taking a shower; reading; watching tv.. or nothing at all; maybe just trying to lay down and go to sleep--- and it feels like baby whale has invaded your tummy to go wade fishing all of a sudden.... you grasp your tummy and smile..... and say "well hello to you to, little baby"...... people say you forget about those minor things..... or just laying down and watching this little baby inside you move around and your belly literally changes form as you see a foot kick the skin out or an arm as it graces your belly button and - OW- those little pains and aches as it pulls on things for fun in there.....
You sit there and wonder what kind of a mom you'll be. You pray for the wisdom to come when you scream out "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THAT CHILD!".... you pray for the strength to come when you don't think you can stay awake one more moment to catch yet another bout of vomit with the stupid makeshift bucket you've made out of an old paint can. You cry and laugh and love when you didn't - I mean truly did NOT- think it was possible to move anymore..... you wonder for the hundredth time if you made the right decision in Punishment 10,784; you cry yourself to sleep and wake up and put that wonder woman cape back on, hoping today that you're worthy of it.

How do I know I'm a mommy? Because I have the craziest, most hair pulling out days, and I swear that tomorrow can't be any worse...... but when it is, I kinda chuckle to myself and find myself on my mediation chair (the toilet.. c'mon now....) praying to god to give me the courage and power to go out there and face the demon(s) known as my flesh and blood one more minute. I prepare for battle, and I am faced with the worst of the worst..... the looks of hurt as I put one in time out..... the bullets of anger from the older one who says "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING" as he stomps his way into his bedroom to avoid the punishment 10,785.
I duck as I see the arms that flail two milliliters from my head from a three year old purposely trying to spin himself into a dizzy spell, laughing as he falls to the ground and getting up to do it all over again.
I gasp as I see the cup of chocolate milk that he has just not-quite-put the lid on correctly before it hits the ground and spills out ALL OVER everything that I've just cleaned.
I smile as I watch them holding hands in the backseat- totally oblivious that I can see it- and knowing that they love each other so fiercely.
I laugh with tears- I know, crazy, right?- as I see my once labeled delayed/disabled/special needs child- fly through with flying colors a test that I just cringe as I hear the instructions because I think "good god... they want him to WHAT?" ...... but he just does it. Amazing.

It's having the worse freaking week- so hard and challenging that Friday comes and I find myself saying "THANK GOD you're going with DADDY this weekend.... Mommy is going to MAUI!"
........ Yet breaking down in tears once they have walked out the door because you wonder if the only thing the kid is going to remember is that you hollered at/punished them for something three days ago, and they aren't going to want to come home. (No, seriously- this happens A LOT).... and you cry and cry and say you need him to come home NOW.

How do I feel being a mommy?

Goodness.... it's complicated.
It's insane.
It's.....
it's.....
It is... where the crazy meets laughter. On the good days.

Until next time,
Just Another One.