Mothers of the World, Unite!

This year, Mother's Day has taken on a whole new meaning for me. Today, I woke up feeling exponentially special because I'd be celebrating my first year as a mother.

My first gift was a spectacular nighttime surprise: Atticus slept ELEVEN hours for the first time. Previously, the longest he had slept in one nighttime stretch was eight hours, already an astounding feat for a 2-month-old baby. The second gift: Even after such a long sleep, he did not leak out of his diaper. Phew! Needless to say, we had the most pleasant morning.

I called the mothers in my family to wish them a happy mother's day. I was especially appreciative of my sisters. One has three children (7, 4, & 2) and the other has two babies. One sister bakes cakes from scratch, assembles bento boxes for her kids' lunches, and drives the eldest daughter to 6 extracurricular activities every week. The other sister gives her babies lavender baths, wakes up 4 times a night, and goes to mother support groups after work. I have a new-found amazement for the efforts and accomplishments of mothers. A part of me wants to be a lazy mother, to do the minimal possible for what it takes to be a "good" mother, just so that I can maintain my own independence and identity. I know it sounds selfish, but when I think of child rearing, the only word that comes to mind is "tethered." I won't be making bento boxes for Atticus, but I will find my own way of showing my love and keeping my sanity.

Today felt like Christmas.

Robby gave me a card from both Atticus and himself. He held a pen in Atticus's hand & wrote a short, messy note. In his card, he called me the hub of the family and Atticus & he the spokes in the wheel. He went further: most importantly, the wheel was greased with breast milk. I love Robby's cards - he makes the funniest analogies and metaphors.

So happy mother's day to all the mothers in the world. We carry the future in our bellies, pop them out in excruciatingly painful ways, feed them around the clock, scrub yellow poop from their clothes (Robby draws the line here, so it's a Mommy duty), send them off to school, and learn to let go of them. Sometimes, thinking about it all makes me sad - the letting go part of raising a child - but that's just the way of life, I guess, like the inevitability of death and loss.

For now, I'm going to enjoy every moment I get to press heads and cuddle with Atticus until he pulls away and becomes his own person.