I’ve never been particularly fond of early mornings. My natural inclination leans towards late nights and sleeping in. However, the journey into motherhood swiftly alters one’s internal clock. There are rare mornings when my son sleeps until 7 a.m., but let’s face it, that isn’t the norm. Most days, he is awake between 5 and 6 a.m., and there are instances when he calls for me at 4 a.m. On those mornings, all I want is to bury myself under the covers and pretend I don’t hear him.
I yearn for the luxury of sleeping until 9, or even 10. I long for the freedom to rise at my own pace, without the pressure of preparing breakfast for a little one who will likely toss more food on the floor than they eat. I wish to enjoy a meal without a tiny person perched on my lap, requesting bites, pulling my hair, and getting their hands into my food.
I crave a long, hot shower in peace, without the sounds of tantrums echoing in the background. I want to brush my hair without someone tugging at my legs, pleading for attention. I desire to apply my makeup properly instead of hurriedly, with a child clambering for a turn with my brushes. I want to wear nice clothes without them being marred by remnants of food, boogers, and other unexpected messes.
I dream of driving with the windows down, music blasting loudly enough to drown out my thoughts. Shopping without a care about whether I have enough snacks or nursery rhymes memorized to make it through the checkout line feels like a distant fantasy. I wish I could lie down for a nap without the nagging guilt of chores left undone or the ticking clock reminding me that my rest time is limited.
I wish for clean floors that remain pristine for longer than ten minutes. I want to watch something on television that isn’t Peppa Pig or Frozen for the millionth time. I hope for nights where I can sleep soundly without the familiar sounds of a toddler needing comfort, curling up between my partner and me to drift back to sleep.
But I am a mother. I often remind myself of the joy that comes from hearing my son’s little voice calling for me throughout the day. I cherish the delight and wonder in his eyes as he spots a “big truck” or conquers the slide all on his own. Those crumbs on the floor signify family meals and moments shared. The crayon masterpieces that adorn my walls are a testament to a curious mind eager to explore, create, and play.
I remind myself that spilled milk isn’t worth the tears, and every cup can be filled again. Long showers are indeed a luxury, and having a curious toddler isn’t so bad—often, it’s quite amusing. I realize that shopping trips to Target would lack the same thrill without my little companion, and I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.
Peppa Pig isn’t so dreadful, and I’ve come to enjoy Frozen as one of my favorite Disney films. I rest easy at night, grateful for a home and, more importantly, for a family that loves and needs me as much as I love and need them. I recognize that if I chose to spend my days hiding away, I would miss out on life’s most precious gifts. For further insights on the journey to motherhood, consider exploring resources like this excellent guide for pregnancy and home insemination or this informative article that delves deeper into these topics. Also, check out this authority on couples’ fertility journeys.
In summary, while the challenges of motherhood can be overwhelming, the joys and rewards far outweigh them. The journey is filled with love, laughter, and countless precious moments that shape our lives.