One Year a Mother

Mid morning today, sitting on a blanket by a pond with my baby I live my ideal version of being a mom. Keeping it real, the sky is grey with smoke from distant wildfires, the baby is sick, the ground is a little wet through the blanket. But still there are those stupid happy tears again. 

And by happy tears I mean that weird prickling in my eyes and a tear drop or two if I’m really out of control. These Happy tears were something I wasn’t prepared for. I’d never cried happy tears in my life before I became a mother. Now I can’t stop. 

You might be thinking, “shes taking post partum hormones seriously ?!” but I think it’s more than that. Motherhood has changed me irreversibly and one of those changes has been crying when my heart is too full to hold any more happiness. This first year has been a collage of moments when I think life can’t get any better than it is this is exact second. 5 extra minutes rocking the sweet child just so I can watch his perfect sleeping face, the split second when I turn around and catch Little B hugging Rebel the dog. Introducing Little B, 52 times the age he was last year at this time, to outside in summer -gurgling water, warm wind in our hair, grass on bare feet, mud puddles. BTT and Little B being silly together.

So I cry when I’m happy. It’s fine. I’ve changed in other ways too. My heart has changed, softened in many ways and hardened in a few. My brain has rewired itself irreversibly, my arms that used to be independent now feel empty when my child has long naps. And most embarrassingly, the cliches I’ve ridiculed pre motherhood all hold true for me -I wouldn’t have it any other way, my child is the cutest cleverest one that’s ever existed, they grow too fast, love is blind. 

There’s a lot of talk about how hard being a mother is. And it is sometimes. But today, on Mother’s Day, a year after become a mother, I celebrate the best, the happiest, the every dayest parts of my year as a mom.