consumed in motherhood

attempts at a mother's day photo

my cereal is not my own. by the time i finally get around to eating my own breakfast in the morning, my baby birds flock to my knee and demand bites. one for you, one for you, one for me.

i rarely go to the bathroom alone.

i can't wear nice clothes. if we are going to a nice event, i wait until the last possible minute to change into something nice so that it doesn't end up covered in food or bodily fluids.

my children are my alarm clock.  and the snooze button is broken.

if i want to get something productive done, i just have to pray to the naps gods that the stars will align and i will have a window of time longer than 15 minutes to myself.

it's all consuming. 

but there are moments when i am reading to my children, singing a song in the car with them, or sitting on a bench at a park and watching them go down the slide when i am consumed in the joys of motherhood as well. it's not all hard. there are rewards. i imagine that the older they get, the greater the rewards become.

i don't regret it for a moment.