Because I’m a mom, I take the night shift AND the day shift. Because I’m a mom, I forgo the good kind of sleep, for now, and I listen to you babble your own baby […]
Because I’m a mom, I take the night shift AND the day shift.
Because I’m a mom, I forgo the good kind of sleep, for now, and I listen to you babble your own baby language while you claw my face at 3 a.m.
Because I’m a mom, I have a new brain with a faulty “off” switch, which allowed me to write this while everyone else is sound asleep. We also finally got legitimate health insurance, and I now treat my health as one of my top priorities.
Because I’m a mom, I microwave my coffee ten times each morning, and I finally eat breakfast around 12:45 p.m. I eat less thought out meals, while you only get the best I can make or afford.
Because I’m a mom, I currently abstain from certain past luxuries I loved, but only because I love you more. I’m growing my savings account, no longer my shoe collection. I bit the bullet of my youth and finally became a responsible adult. I accepted the new person I now am, got to know her and learned to love her, too. I’m less glamorous these days—but only on the outside. *painting nails emoji*
Because I’m a mom, I made a real budget and actually stick to it. I quickly learned how to say, “no” and “don’t do that” anytime I needed to stick up for you. I ditched my people pleasing ways, aside from pleasing you, and I learned not to waver but stand firmly in what I believe.
Because I’m a mom, I appreciate the small things more, and the big things stay stored in my heart forever. I started focusing on what matters in life, knowing I will help lay the foundation of your truth. I remember the age old, “every action has a consequence,” and I apply it to my daily life. I remember to pour into my center of truth, and renew my belief that good things are coming. Because I’m a mom, I ask for wisdom every day.
Because I’m a mom, I analyzed my behaviors and habits, and I cleaned shop. I curse less and curse myself when I accidentally curse. I care deeply about what you are taking in, and it affects how often I watch trashy television or listen to Fetty Wap. I miss you, Fetty. I am very confused “The Bachelor” has been called family friendly, and I try to watch how often I pick up my phone, glare at myself in the mirror or speak something that doesn’t bring life.
Because I’m a mom, I loathe anyone who tailgates with you in the backseat. Really, it could be Mother Teresa, and she would immediately be on my sh!t list.
Because I’m a mom, I think about all the germs you’re touching on the table at the Mexican restaurant, even though I just ate the chip that fell from the basket.
Because I’m a mom, I became a tougher person, a better person and someone with grit. I love deeper, work harder and see a broader picture of life. I take less, give more and expect nothing. I discovered reserves of myself I never knew existed, and I saw the depth of what I could carry. I remember life is but a vapor, and this time with you is already passing by. Because I’m a mom, I choose you every single day, and I miss you when we are apart.
Because I’m a mom, I have no more selfies on my phone. I solely collect groups of your photos, many of which are practically identical, yet I can’t bring myself to erase a single one. I carry around the heaviest bag in the world, possibly dislocating my shoulder when coupled with you in the same arm, just for your comfort and fulfillment of any basic need. I appreciate every online delivery service known to man, and I use them all.
Because I’m a mom, I perform the same silly song/dance/skit over and over again just to get the same gummy smile. I developed a better sense of animation to read stories to you, and I read more than I ever have! Because I’m a mom, I delight in everything you do, as my sweet 6-month-old you can do no wrong.
Because I’m a mom, I grew a heart chamber. I even started liking other kids (you were the only one as of five minutes ago). I reformatted the dreams I have for my life, believing they can still happen but not without you right beside me. I think long and hard about what I can truly offer you and what I actually want you to admire me for. I have greater compassion for all people, knowing everyone is someone’s child, perfectly formed and profoundly loved in some way.
Because I’m a mom, I recognize I was quick to judge before you arrived. I am aware of the many preconceived notions regarding “moms,” and laugh it off to myself, because they just don’t get it.
Because I’m a mom, I get tired, but I will never give up on you. I take deep breaths and press on because it’s the only option. I accept the new fabric of my life and am trying to make the most out of it every day. Because I’m a mom, my main priority is raising you well and empowering you with tools to be the best version of yourself. You will be great.
Because I’m a mom, I am forever changed, and I became a more complete person.
Because I’m a mom, I’m far from perfect, but you will always get the best I have to offer, sweet girl. You will always be the point of my actions and the purpose of my days. You will always be fought for, and you will always be loved. You will always feel chosen, accepted and desired. You will always fuel this part of my heart reserved for you. You will always be the rain that helps the better parts of me bloom. It will always be me, and it will always be you.