On The Days That Aren't So Great...

“I love you

I love you

I love you”

I whisper across their pillowcase on the evenings that frame one of those days.

The days I don’t recognise the sound of my own voice.

Or my reflection.

The days I feel confusion between the comfort of routine and the desire for new adventure.

The days the only exercise I get is bending down to pick up toys, a cumbersome obstacle course of never ending things to do.

The days I miss adult conversation.

The days I want to send a cute selfie to my husband because I used to do that, I used to do a lot of things that I don’t want to do now.

The days where I’m saying, “stop”, “enough”, “no more fighting” on repeat.

The days I spend sighing because I really want to hear this thing they want to tell me, the bright look in their eyes, I love them so much. But I’m still sighing.

We don’t always have these days of course, some days I get the hang of it.

The ever changing pattern of motherhood.

I’ll still be tired, but it doesn’t absorb up every last piece of me.

I remember that ‘being’ moves me forward as much as ‘doing’, but on the inside.

I know that when I feel a little lost, I’m not, I’m here, maybe even with softer edges.

But sometimes I have those testing days, where I can’t wait for their bedtime. Where the breakthrough days before come crumbling to pieces.

And so I lie there at night, a welcomed chance to gather those crumbs of chaos.

“I love you

I love you

I love you”

I whisper.

Because I do, more than anything I’ve ever loved in this whole world.

Even when the day feels like a tipped over bin. Even when I do.

They know how much I love them, I think as I slowly close their door.

They know…

***

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Photo: Sam Ivey