“Is being a mom hard”
Before I tuck in my daughter for the first of a good twenty times, this is what she asks me.
How do I explain to her that what is hard is not what she thinks is the hard parts. Loving them, feeding them, playing, watching them grow up, those are the easy parts. Yet, that is what she sees as hard.
I think in my head all of the things that are hard in less than 30 seconds
Trying to work through my own neurotic tendencies about the condition my home is in.
Trying to find the patience everyday to realize that they are still so little.
Explaining I need time to myself or daddy and mommy need time together.
Trying to explain to them why I freak out when I cannot see them in a store or playground.
Explaining that when they are poorly dressed it is a reflection of me.
Knowing they don’t feel well and I can’t fix it.
Watching them get stitches in the ER.
Driving to an ER when are 2,000 miles from your home.
Having to yell and punish them when they are wrong.
Explaining where babies come from.
Wanting to so desperately to breastfeed them but it just don’t work.
Protecting every ounce of their innocence.
“A little bit” I answer.