In my rather short tenure as a mother, a significant truth has been revealed; I take MANY things for granted. Things I never really realized were luxuries, compromised by an infestation of children, are now the objects of insane desire for me. We’re at the beach this week and I’ve had a lot of time to give some thought to such things.
I can’t help but wonder how transformative it would be to actually finish a HOT cup of coffee before leaving the house each morning,
or enjoy a meal without getting up for something ( who am I kidding, enjoy a meal at all),
to start a project without being interrupted by shrieks from the playroom,
to release myself from the angst of stress that someone is going to get hurt, hurt somebody or terrorize some material good…namely ones that don’t belong to us,
to be responsible for wiping only my own bottom,
a restful night’s sleep without 3:30 am creepers,
to hear my own name, rather than mommy,
the joy of freedom without emotional strings,
having to say things only once,
a morning to sleep….or at least lay in my bed longer than 6:15.
But, then again….
I’d miss the excitement of a 6-year old fisherman, who also hunts alligators and snakes in the backyard,
the soprano princess who can hold the sound of my name for 8 measures of song (girl’s got lungs),
hope in even the most dismal circumstances (“NO! You’re not getting a toy!”),
unsolicited compliments (“Mom, you beautiful like a princess”)
and the opportunity, finally, to be someone’s heroine.