Ugh. This is turning into quite the mommy blog. I seem to write about Zoe and my Mummy adventures more than anything else. Apologies, if you find these mommy rants boring and repetitive. It’s just that, even though I have a dozen (read half a million) other things going on in my life, this one aspect of me (or my life) seems all consuming.
Nothing else worries me, irritates me, gives me more joy than motherhood does. It also sucks me dry. Tires me like nothing else does. Honest to God, running a marathon IS easier than taking an 8 hour flight with my little one. NO joke. No exaggeration.It sounds utterly rehashed and cliched, and I’m one to stay away from cliches but I cannot put it any other way.
Irrespective of how I interact with people in real life, I try to remain true to myself here, on this blog (I shall not share my “swearing, short- fused” self though!). Therefore, even though I wish to appear as an uber- cool, fuss- less, manicured, soft- spoken, poised Mum who always has a handle on things, I sometimes end up being the stereotypical, routine, blubbering, weary, confused, screaming Mum who can’t get her scrambled eggs done.
All said, we contemporary Mums seem to make a lot of fuss and noise about parenting and motherhood. Our parents and the generations before them did this too. With far less brouhaha. We need to step down a notch or two I assume.
I digress from what I wanted to address today- me missing my “little one”.
Oooooh! I miss her so much.
I love my feisty, boisterous, destruction-on-two-legs, crazy 14 month old, but I miss my cuddly, cooey, calm, less-mobile little baby. I was so caught up in the storm of things, her first year of life seemed to have slipped by.
I feel like I did not cherish it enough. The picture of her in my mind, as a newly born, miracle six and a half pounder, already seems hazy. The sleep deprivation and the poo explosions at 3 am is now a distant memory. And it has barely been a year!
The sands of time slip away, ever so hastily, while I try my best to reign in the chaos and hold on to a precious few moments to cherish and enjoy each day.
I feel this eerie sadness, for the passing of her infancy; I can only imagine the state I’d be left in when she leaves the home to go to college or to pursue her own life and dreams. I dread that day.
I also look forward to it!
She is no longer the sedate, content baby, and getting food into that tiny belly is more difficult than fixing a really, really bad fracture; but she still surprises and delights me each day with her spunk and personality.
The very attributes that drives me up a wall, are traits that will one day stand her in good stead. Single- minded, stubborn, willful, ever- smiling, and not- easily distracted from task at hand- I can slowly see fleeting snippets of what she may grow up to be.
The Mister who until recently called me a Diva/ Drama- Queen has to now reckon with a whole new level of Diva- ness! She has him hooked around her little finger. Lord bless the poor soul 🙂
Extremely vociferous, with a uncanny knack of letting us know exactly what she wants, even with the limited vocabulary of hers; I know these are priceless days. And when she is in her terrible twos, I will sorely miss my crazy but loving one year old. I will possibly even miss her terrible twos when I have to trick her into doing her pre- school homework!
I see a pattern developing here. So, I need to step back and vow to always (or at least sometimes) try and live in the moment. Each day, unbeknown to us is a blessing that we will not receive again. Every day is unique, and one that shall never be relived or repeated no matter how much we want it to. A day may be mundane, exciting, joyous, miserable or boring; but it can never “be the same” as yesterday, or the day before that.
I hope I remember my vow, even when I have a glass of milk thrown at my face with tiny hands!
Till next time..