How I Feel About Being Your Mom

Dearest Kyla, Riya-Ray and Knox

So right now, none of you are able to read this.  This is due to a number of factors, of which the inability to read being the most dominant, but also the fact that you’re not allowed on the internet till you’re 40 probably plays its part too.

And yet I feel the need to write it.

Maybe it’s in the hope that one day you’ll read it – you know when I upgrade your Nokia 3310 to a phone that can go onto the internet.  Although I’m quite aware that by that time, you may have already run as far away from me as possible and reading my ramblings on this slice of the internet is what you would loosely refer to as torture.

Nevertheless, I feel compelled to let you know how being your Mom makes me feel.  Which is no easy feat, so I thought I’d break up the feelings into the various sections of the day.  Here goes…

I wake up in the morning feeling like P Diddy.  Grab my glasses, out the door, I’m gonna hit the city…  No wait.  That’s not right.  Damnit Kesha get out my head.  (You guys are going to have to Google who that is – although her song is currently stuck in my head, I doubt she will make it till your 40’s.  Also, is Google still a thing or do you just have a chip in your head that tells you what’s what?).

Back to what I was trying to say…

I wake up in the morning and every single time I resent having to keep my eyes open.  A character trait I seem to have passed down to you, unless of course it’s the weekend when you morph into vampires that are awake much earlier than me. But during the week, waking you all up in the morning has me using all my feels up in one go:

A huge heart swell of pride/joy/love as I gaze on your sleeping forms.  Your little faces so perfectly at peace in your sleep – so still, so quiet, so perfect. I marvel that just one nights sleep has caused you to grow another 2cm.  I wonder how long I’ll get to wake you up by singing silly, annoying songs and if it will be something you will remember fondly about your childhood.  And then I sing.  And I get scared.  Because my voice?  It’s not one you want to wake up to.  But it’s the only one I’ve got.  So what’s a girl to do except sing loudly out of key as I rouse your minds from your dreamy adventures.

And then we start our day the way we start 5 out of 7 of them – exactly the same.

While I dash around the house trying to get myself ready, I start feeling these new emotions about all of you.  Mostly, it’s frustration and maybe a touch of anger at how it takes you so freaking long to do exactly the same things every morning.  I mean it’s not like I throw something new at you when you wake up, you literally have to do the same thing you did yesterday and it’s like you’re doing it for the very first time every morning.  Yes, you do need to get dressed, put on your shoes, eat your breakfast, brush your hair and your teeth before you can leave the house.  Err’ damn day son.

With that behind us, I feel a fresh wave of overwhelm as I look at you in your little uniforms getting ready to face a brand new day without me at your side.  It’s quite a thing actually and you’ll think I’m totes crazy until one day you’re the one having to say goodbye to your little people.

While I’m at work and you’re at school, I miss you.  I miss you so hard that it hurts.

And then before I know it, I’m fetching all of you from Ga and we’re heading home.  I check in with you about your school day and what do you know, you did nothing again today.  Another quick pang of frustration – when will you let me in to your day?!

Just when you start being able to leave the house without packing the entire house for your trip, this happens! They packed carry cots, food, nappies and it might just be the cutest thing watching them change fake poo nappies. ?

A photo posted by Cindy Alfino (@cindyalfino) on Jan 9, 2017 at 10:29pm PST

You start your homework and suddenly I’m anxious.  Can you cope, are you struggling, how can I help you without doing it all for you?  Also another big fat dose of “JUST SIT DOWN AND DO IT!” because you all hate homework and even though I do too, I have to make sure that you’re keeping up.  I’d also prefer you to be playing – believe me.  There only other person that is more bummed out that you have homework than you, is me!

We sit down for supper and finally we start hearing stories about your day.  Another gut wrenching wave of pride/love/heart poppy stuff as you talk about difficult moments and how you overcame them, or funny moments or anything really.  I even love listening to your boring bits because I just love that you’re sharing them with me.

Bedtime is probably the most controversial feelings point in my whole day.  You’re tired, I’m tired – you need to sleep, I want to sleep – you all freaking hate sleep.  I can’t fathom it.  So in my desperate attempt to get you to Go The **** To Sleep (have you heard about that book?!  Crass but hilarious), I get irritated.  Or as y’all are currently saying “ee-nnoyed”.  I shout, you say things like, “Why are you so nice in the morning and so mean at night?“.  I get all emotional about being a horrible Mom.  Then I get over it quickly and shout a bit more.  Sometimes you snuggle up to me as you fall asleep and then it’s back – that heart swelling love that I actually can’t describe because I freaking love you all so freaking much (no matter how much I shout).

And then as my exhausted body finally trundles into bed, I’m excited to see you again in the morning.  Because no matter how else I’m feeling, I love you through it all.