Transition

I’ve recently realized I am at a sort of parenting crossroads. Things are changing in my household, not for the better or worse, but undeniably different.

Gone are the baby days of sitting, cuddling, and just staring at them. We are never sitting still any more; if we are, it’s thanks to screen time and desperation.

We’re reaching new levels of independence each day. I used to feel stuck, unable to do anything besides being a fully present and focused mom. I'd be met with tears and chaos if I tried to tear my attention away from them for a moment. It was easier not to try and to surrender to what they wanted. So many things got neglected, most noteworthy- me.

I was happy to just be ‘mommy’ in those early parenting years. I wore the crown with honor, and my head held high. I’ve imagined being a mom my whole life, and I couldn’t believe the life I ended up with. I’m home full-time with my babies and getting to pour all of me into them. I don’t miss a thing. I’m bearing witness to it all. I gave myself so entirely to the experience that I couldn’t tell you where I ended and my babies began. We were one and the same, and I loved it that way.

I was their mommy but also hobby-less, identity-less, and direction-less. If I’m honest, I was lonelier than ever. There was nowhere else on the planet I’d rather be, but I also felt swallowed by the fact that I only ever got to be there. It was as suffocating as it was all I ever wanted. It was hard to put into words. It still is.

It’s difficult to explain how two tiny, perfect beings gave my life purpose and reason yet completely consumed me until it sometimes felt like I had nothing left. I gave them everything I had, and I’d do it again. I would rewind time and live the last three years on a loop. I loved it so much. It’s the most complicated and conflicting and beautiful and perfect thing. I have no regrets; I also didn’t have this understanding as I lived it.

As the fog cleared, I saw who was standing in the mirror. I am a person who matters, too. They say the seasons are short, and it’s so true. I’ve lived many seasons of my life for myself. These last few years were a gift to give to them. It wasn’t my time to do tremendous things.

I shuttered after writing that. It’s a lie. I did the most monumental things ever. I nourished, comforted, and nurtured two of the best things this earth has ever seen. I was meant to do those things. I couldn’t have not done it. Being away from them would’ve been like trying to breathe underwater.

I’ve been a hundred different things in my lifetime and will get to be a hundred more before I go, but Mom will always be first on the list. And in those early years, maybe the list was short, and I wasn’t the wife, daughter, friend, reader, writer, dancer, music enthusiast, or anything else that I used to be. But that’s okay.

I did the best I could at that time. Some days felt like treading water, and I’ve never been a good swimmer. Others felt like I should be teaching a class on how to do this shit. I was so confident.  But in the end, I made it through, and we’re turning a corner.

I find myself reaching and dreaming more than I ever really have. I have my hand in a couple of honey pots, and the bees are kind. I believe in myself. I feel capable of wearing all the hats, and the rewards are plentiful.

Everything is better because I’m better. My kids are growing and need me less. It hurts in a bittersweet way. But I’m growing too and filling that space with this ultimate version of myself that I am so proud of. I love the example I’m setting.

I’m showing my kids it is possible to do all the things they're interested in. It’s never too late to chase a dream. We can do hard things. We can strive for the impossible. We can be the 1% that makes it. Even if we don’t, we will have the time of our lives trying.

We’re in the midst of a transition. It’s magical.