Being a mother to all four of my babies has been an all-consuming experience. The soul crushing love I have felt watching them all grow up has been consistent with them all. The immediate love when they are born and the natural desire to protect, nurture and give them the love all children deserve...it's just always there. I'm so far from a perfect mom, but the intense connection I feel to my kids has always been just there. I think it is that way for most. We all think the sun rises and sets with those faces, the smiles, the mis-spoken words, even the tantrums and messes.
It's just intense being a mother. Intensely joyous and also intensely difficult. It isn't easy to exist in an all day service project. It isn't fun to hold a toddler while taking a poop or to have four eyes watching while you shower. It isn't easy to navigate the sibling rivalry or to hide in the garage knowing little people with needs are actively looking for you while you try to pay a bill. It is joyful when they first learn to say, "I love you." Or when they learn to give kisses. When they dance, poop in the potty, throw up in a bowl or hold the hand of a sibling to comfort them when they are hurt. Those moments are the kind where you feel like your hear has grown inside your chest. There are so many moments like that.
With my baby boy though it is different. Not because of who he is, I think it is either because he is the last one or possibly because I have the motherhood experience now that I lacked when I was a mother with fewer years behind me. If I could, I wouldn't take a poop without Leo on my lap. If I could, I would chat with him while I showered every single time. I am in full life abandonment over this baby. I am not put out by him ever. I want to snuggle him to sleep, I want to share a bed with him, I want to read him ten stories, I want to sing him fifty songs, and when he sleeps I miss him. I have never experienced that before.
I feel like if motherhood ever was this joyful I would have wanted more kids. I don't regret having four, and I wasn't even in charge of when they came, I didn't have the luxury of getting pregnant right when I wanted. But I think if I had felt this way when Ruby was two, I may have eight kids right now.
When Ruby was little, the cutest, sweetest, easiest toddler ever created...I lived for nap time and bed time. I mean when she was awake, she was my best friend and we had a great time bathing, puzzling, parking, strolling and jabbering. A GREAT time...but I was always ready for me time.
I still enjoy me time, and I still get it. I just don't have half my mind fantasizing about it while I am pushing Leo in the swing. With the first three, I would commonly feel like the clock would never arrive at the bedtime hour, but with this last one, I more often than not realize it is 9:40 and little buddy is still going strong and it is no shirt off my back.
So there. Mothering thoughts by me twelve and a half years into the mom gig.
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