May 25, 2023
This is Motherhood.
Just last night, as I sank into the warm embrace of my bathwater, ready to relish a rare moment of solitude, I heard it. The unmistakable signs that my little whirlwind (also known as my 2-year-old) was not, in fact, tucked away in his bed as I had hoped.
First came the thunderous pitter-patter of feet racing down the stairs, followed by a high-pitched wail and an impressive crash as my energetic toddler burst through the bathroom door, which I had thought was securely locked. (Honestly, with these vintage 1960s locks, it seems like all he has to do is touch a door, and the locks just vanish—except when he manages to lock me out, and then, mysteriously, the power of those locks is very much in play.) He launched himself into the tub with me, knocking over my precious cup of tea and sending water splattering everywhere.
This is Motherhood.
In an instant, I yanked him away from the scalding water. I held him over the edge and began the hilariously awkward task of peeling off his soaked clothes. But as soon as he realized what was happening, his tears vanished, and he thought he was about to join me in the tub. I opened my mouth to express my frustration, to scold him, or maybe even just to sigh, but then I caught his gaze.
His eyes dropped, and his little head hung low, waiting for a reprimand. I’d love to say I gave in out of some tender maternal instinct, but honestly, in that moment, I didn’t so much relent as I surrendered; I simply didn’t want to endure yet another tantrum.
This is Motherhood.
Once he was undressed, he bounced with joy. I had to block him from jumping in while I drained the scorching water and replaced it with a more toddler-friendly temperature that felt like a chill to my bones. I decided just to bathe him alone, but as I started to rise, he wrapped his chubby little arms around my neck. That tug at my heart was undeniable, so I settled back down into the tub and plopped my little bundle on my lap.
This is Motherhood.
As I washed his golden curls, I couldn’t help but notice how much they had grown. Scrubbing his feet made me realize they no longer fit in the palm of my hand. I reflected on the last time we shared a bath; I could still cradle him against me, and now he was nearly half my height.
As he rested his sleepy head against me, I recalled the molars he was cutting (which had undoubtedly led to our late-night bath adventure) and how the dentist had just informed me, “The next time you’ll experience this is in about four years.” In just four short years, there would be no more baths with mommy to soothe him. How big would he be then? Would we have cut his hair? What would he sound like? Who would he become?
This, is Motherhood.
During our bath time, my 9-year-old, who shares my passion for photography, captured a moment of us. When I looked at the photo, I didn’t see my messy bathroom; instead, I saw a serene space where nighttime baths create a moment of peace—an opportunity to bond with my children. I didn’t notice my own disheveled appearance; I saw a joyful spirit, a body that has accomplished incredible feats, the most significant of which has been bringing three beautiful children into the world. This, truly, is the greatest aspect of motherhood.
Motherhood is messy and chaotic. It’s about being resolute yet yielding, sometimes for justifiable reasons and other times simply out of sheer exhaustion. It involves constant self-reflection, questioning decisions and wondering what could have been done differently. Motherhood is carving out time for yourself while fully giving your all to your children. It is, in essence, a paradox; you never quite know if you’re doing it right, so you breathe through the tough moments and inhale every ounce of joy.
This, is Motherhood.
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Summary:
Motherhood is a beautiful paradox filled with chaos and joy, moments of frustration and love, reflection and growth. It presents its fair share of challenges, yet also offers irreplaceable connections with our children. Each experience, from playful interruptions to quiet reflections, weaves together the unique tapestry of parenting.