Parents. You're so lucky.
I hope and pray that every single parent out there, cherishes every single waking moment they have with their kids. Never takes one single, happy or not-so-happy, nerve-wrenching moment for granted.
Let me just start with this disclaimer: Every single person I know that has kids, is a loving and doting mother or father. Three of my six younger sisters are mothers, and they are fabulous at it. I get the privilege everyday of seeing people rejoicing in the adorable little foibles that their kids bring to their day-to-day. Pictures and videos and status updates of my nieces and nephew and all of the adorable and not so awesome things they do. My friend updates his Facebook status to say, "There's just something about going in and checking on my son that makes my heart melt. Thank you Shannon." (his fiancée & mother of his child)
It melts my heart to read things like that.
Every time your child knocks over their glass of milk, or asks you to help with their homework, or asks you incessant "why, why, why's?" or falls asleep in your arms, or tells you they don't want this dinner cause they like that other one you make better, or tries to wear your clothes, your makeup or your workboots, or spits up on you, or needs to be rocked back to sleep in the middle of the night, or needs you to kiss the boo boo on their scraped knee to make it all better, or needs you to check under the bed and in the closet for monsters...3 times every night, or can't fall asleep til you've read them that special story that they love so much and kiss them on the forehead the way you do....
the list can go on and on of the tiny things that happen as a parent that I can only dream of experiencing.
Sadly, this is a sore subject for me. I've only ever imagined my life to be that of a mothers. I'm turning 31 this week, I am as of yet, still single, unmarried and childless while almost every single person I know that is a decade older or younger than I am, has kid(s).
I am genuinely happy for them. I actually seem to appreciate the presence of social networking even more, since I get to live vicariously through them, through the updates online of the birth of their twins, a video of baby's first word/steps/haircut/day of school... and then sometimes, I hit a trigger moment of panic, agony and depressive despair.
Like when I hear someone desperately talking about how their birth control better never fail as they never want children. Or someone that is younger than I am, that willingly elects to get their tubes tied in order to prevent future pregnancies. While that is absolutely their right to make those decisions with their lives, and I completely respect that right to do so, I can't help but feel a pang of overwhelming jealousy at their ability or need to even MAKE that decision.
And that is MY right to feel like that.
I will probably have to come to terms with the fact that I will never feel the joy of bringing home baby from the hospital, making all the funny little mistakes that first time parents make, having sleepless nights because my baby is colicky and just wont sleep, making them breakfast, lunch and dinner, sending them off to school, embarrassing them in front of their friends because "Mommy wants a hug goodbye", helping them learn how to deal with bullies, rejection, crushes, a failed test, a broken heart, the loss of a pet, a stubbed toe, the importance of being a good person no matter how unfair it seems that good things sometimes happen to bad people, endless laundry/dishes...
Yes. I willingly WANT all of those things and all the countless other ones that go hand in hand with being a Mom.
It's all I've ever wanted. To be even a FRACTION as good of a Mom as my mother is, would be phenomenal.
We didn't have a lot of money. The things I remember from my childhood have nothing to do with what brand of clothes I wore, what I got for Christmas/birthdays, what my parents drove, how big our house was, or how much stuff we had in it. My memories are of all of the things my Mom sacrificed for me. When my parents might have been out with friends for the first time in a year, and I get so sick that the babysitter has to call them to come home. She would stay up all night with me, rubbing my back while I threw up for hours. Or EVERY SINGLE TIME that I woke up from a nightmare, my mother was there to hold me silently, rock me back and forth until I felt calm and safe again no matter how long it took. Or waking up extra early to make my favourite breakfast, "just because". Or helping me with my homework and making me feel like Einstein even when I felt like the dumbest person in the world. She gave up her youth, her sleep, her social life and probably sometimes, even her sanity, to be a Mom. And a damn good one.
My Mom always knew what to say, when to say it and when to say nothing at all.
My mother is the most amazing person in my entire universe (yes, I have my own universe, and she is all of it), and I could only dream, since I was about 17yrs old, that I would one day have a child of my own to teach right from wrong, and trust to make their own mistakes while always reassuring that I would be there for them no matter what they did.
That kind of trust is lifelong and she is my best friend.
WARNING: HERE IS WHERE YOU MIGHT WANT TO STOP READING!!!
Instead, I get to spend the rest of my adult life, working to make money, to buy things. No special birthday presents to surprise my 6yr old with when she gets home from school, no sports teams to sign them up for when they show an interest. No surprise trips to the amusement park just for being good, or a trip to the ice cream shop for getting straight A's... Nope, I get to spend the rest of my DAYS with a life of material things that I can't take with me when I go. Things that won't stand at my bedside and hold my hand when I'm sick, things that won't stand at my casket and mourn me when I die. No legacy to leave, no memories to live on in someone that shares my DNA.
So every single time that one of you wants to pull your hair out, or hide in the bathroom just to get a moment alone or scream into a pillow just to let it out, feel free to do so since I know that kids can definitely ride your last nerve incessantly, but just please remember, that for every moment that makes you grit your teeth, there's someone out there aching to have a bowl of cereal to clean up off the floor, or crayon to clean off the walls, or chocolate syrup to clean off the ceiling (it happens, I've seen it lol).
I know that I should focus on something else to strive for, a career, a great love, an exciting life.... but sadly, I find that every moment that I spend focusing on trying to make those things happen, I waste another second of my young life, not being that everything to that someone that I created. Your child doesn't care if you have crooked teeth, you're overweight, if you have short or long hair, brown or blonde, wear makeup everyday, wear brand name clothes or designer sunglasses, drive a fancy car, have a $400,000 house, give them 2 gifts of 20 gifts for their birthday, spend $50 on a brand name outfit that they will stain while picking raspberries or rip while riding their bike, if you have the latest electronics, have $1000 or $100,000 in your savings account, have laugh lines or snort when you laugh. Your child loves your laugh. Will never forget your kind, loving eyes and knows only that your (long or short) hair always smelled of lavender when you cuddled them to sleep. Their love for you does not discriminate.
This is the stuff that matters in life.
Everything else, it's just STUFF.
That is all.
M.
