I am mother to one smart arse, wise-cracking 3.5 year old, who is master of the pun and amazes me at how witty he can be at such a young age. I am chief answerer of all-important questions that make me marvel at that constant drive for knowledge. I answer to the nicknames ‘Mumber Tumber’, ‘Mummy-arse’, and ‘Mumma Bumma’.
I am mother to a 10 month old exploring his world with his new-found skill of mobility, and his sense of humour with hilarious games of peekaboo and shaking his head. Our relationship is quieter, with fewer questions. I am provider. I am always there. I watch him instinctively turn to the right as he stirs at night, searching for me where he knows I can always be found. I wake with his beaming face next to mine.
Motherhood is all-encompassing right now. Day times are non-stop, and evenings and nights are dedicated to Rory. There is not one hour that is mine alone. Motherhood is exhausting and tricky, but good at the same time because I know how lucky I am. Motherhood is fun and pride in abundance.
Recently, I have dedicated too much time to worrying about things I don’t have, or am not likely to achieve in the near future. The five-year plan that can’t even get off the ground. Mother’s Day serves as a good reminder to take some time to appreciate the things that I do have, the things that I would trade everything else for in a heartbeat.