Observations of motherhood (Volume 1)

Before you can blink, they have grown.

Before your hormones have settled, your vagina healed, your “sleep pattern” has been established, your bubs have grown and your new borns are 1, 2, 3, months, 1, 2, 3, 4 years old. And that oh so precious stage of gurgling…mamama-ing, sitting, rolling, crawling, walking, talking isnt even a distant foggy memory, because strangely when you look at your bub, how ever old they are, however far removed fro  that wrinkly skrinkly new born they are, they are the same soul you have been growing, knowing, observing LOVING the whole time.

As familiar and unchanging as your love, knowingness and acceptance of, is of your little one, you will perpetually feel your heart swell to exploding point with love, amazement and pride (though I firmly believe pride will be the down fall of humanity its allowed when it comes o the pure awesomeness of a growing little).

You may be a mother but you will never fail to feel like an impostor in the world of adults, a child rearing children.

You will on occasion hear the voice of your parents as the words, tone, emotion leave your mouth, and it will never fail to inspire you to continue being the parent you are, or put the fear of god in to you and make you realise there’s a whole heap of shit you need to work through to not inflict the same negative shit on your child that you inherited.

You may loose your shit… often… no matter how much plinky plonky music you listen to, no matter how many mindfulness classes you attended pre motherhood, no matter how many essential oils you sprinkle about the place.

Shit will happen no matter how much you try protect them from it, the very act of existence will lead you to deal with shitty fathers (this is only in relation  to us, not every father is shitty, and not every mother is glorious), tooth decay, beige food syndrome, stereotypical toy loving, stereotypical colour adoption,  tantrums, sleepless nights, feeling like a failure.

beauty will happen, no matter how much you are caught up in the repetitive craziness of rearing humanimals, you will watch and experience moments of pure unadulterated , unprovoked tenderness, from a being so tiny it is almost incomprehensible; you will be adorned with a gazillion slavery kisses that even on your darkest days, your tiredest days your heart soars and your body giggles with slavery beauty fullness.

your once peaceful child, easy to wake, easy to feed, easy to sleep will change without warning, without apparent cause and you will be left wondering what? why? how?

…………..twins are alternating who wants to scream then feed, so this is it for first draft… for now



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