High, a Low, and a High

Motherhood is life amidst many a high and a low. I spend most of my life wanting to eat my children whole such is my love for them. This all encompassing, overwhelming love in which you believe they are truly the moon, the sun and the stars all wrapped up in this adorable package for you to love unabashedly. Love in its purest, most beautiful form.

And then there are the lows. The lows in which you question how the hell did I get here. Here! Among the noise, the yelling, the fighting, the incessant whining. How did I get here? Here! A life where I am a slave to requests for more milk, feed me, he hit me, help me, wipe me, blah, blah, blah, whiny, whiny, blah. How did I get here? Here! A place where my needs don't matter at all to the child set.

The lows are the worst not only because they are the lows, but because you hate yourself for the sheer existence of the lows. A good mother never has lows. A good mother dances through her day loving each moment with her children. How dare I not feel blessed and perfect? Pile a huge mountain of guilt on top of the lows and your shoulders are horribly weighed down by the burden of it all.

In the midst of the lows today (the fighting, the whining and the yelling - nonstop), when I felt as if my head was truly going to explode, Griffin caught my eye, smiled at me and yelled, "My Momma!." He ran to me with his arms wide open and a huge smile on his face. Without hesitation, he jumped up into my arms, hugged me close and said again, "My Momma." He put his head on my shoulder and held me as tight as I held him.

I breathed him in deeply and just like that I was back to the high. The highs make you forget all about the lows. The highs make it all worth it.