Supernova

I have big feelings.  When they crop up they feel all-consuming.  I look to the east and the west the north and the south and only see them all around me like constellations lining the inside of a tent.  They are dark and yet littered with glimmers of beauty and light.  Being a mom is hard for me.  Harder it seems, than for some.  I don't know if other people are better at hiding their feelings.  Mine pour out of my eyes.  Perhaps others have personalities that help them flow into the roll of motherhood more naturally than mine.  Whatever the reason, this season of littles feels extra challenging.  I feel as though I used to be a planet.  But now I am a moon that revolves around my children.  Or maybe I just have little moons orbiting me, constantly tugging at my gravity.  I wonder who am I?  What is left of me after diaper changes and bedtime stories and dos and don'ts.  Who is this person that I let fall onto the couch like a pile of clean laundry at the end of a long day.  Who is this woman that I scrape out of bed in the morning, at an hour that comes much two early, with a proverbial spatula.  Moments spent doing something that I enjoy or completely at rest are few and far between and almost always interrupted.  Quiet is a unicorn.  It disappears as quickly as I have let out a sigh of relief.  And then the guilt seeps in.  Because this life is a catch-22.  I love these children!  There is enough joy in one wispy blonde curl, one chubby cheek upturned in a grin, one musical baby coo, to power the sun.  Yet I watch the clock and count down its ticks until they will be sleeping and I will be able to breathe.  There is a condemnation in that.  A voice that whispers, "You're supposed to enjoy every second.  This season won't last forever.  You'll miss this someday."  While I know those statements contain flecks of truth, I think it's also okay to feel.  It's okay to feel sad as I watch my old life die.  It's okay to feel exhausted after I give more of myself than I knew I had to give.  It's okay to grieve my maidenhood as I watch it disappear in the rear view mirror.  And besides, while I'm looking in there, I might just catch a glimpse of those little blue orb eyes full of wonder, full of joy, full of unconditional love for me, and remind myself that this will all be worth it one day.