The early days of motherhood are a foggy half-conscious dream, or a nightmare some days. You wonder if you’ll ever leave the house again, or wear real clothes again, or feel like a human who does things other than watch Thomas the Train and wipe up poop.
After a few years, the clouds part and one day you see yourself return. Maybe you had a quiet shower without interruption. Or you slept the whole night through. Or you went on a date with your husband and wore sexy boots. You realize you are conscious again. You made it through the storm. Your body might feel softer, you might see a few gray hairs, but you’re still here.
Years down the line, after years of tiny feet bouncing downstairs at six a.m., the house begins to quiet. Part-time jobs, driver’s licenses, girlfriends and boyfriends usurp the precious mom-time that used to be. You realize several days have passed and you haven’t had a true conversation with your child.
Other than the pile of laundry he left at your feet, you wonder how much he needs you and misses you Continue Reading