Number One turns seven today. He was up at six, dressing in his favourite t-shirt and shorts, ready for the Lego Movie themed party that would begin eight hours later. I hadn’t the heart to tell him that he won’t really be seven till a few minutes before midnight.
At six am on the day he was born I was pacing our apartment, excited and nervous, breathing through contractions that had been coming and going since 4am, blissfully unaware that I had another eighteen hours of this ahead of me and ignorant to the fact that that life would never be the same again.
You see, if it wasn’t for motherhood, there are a lot of things that would be different in my life.
I’m so shy, I would never have joined a local club or committee for myself. But now I’m a long-serving member of the kindergarten parents’ council.
I do not flinch at snot, poo, wee or vomit landing on my hair, clothes or skin. This was not always the case.
I don’t think of time as mine any more but rather I think of time running in parallel – mine, my children’s, my husband’s and other people’s – sometimes it overlaps.
I am wiser than I used to be. As my children grow older, I find that my negotiation and project management skills have developed and improved.
I laugh every day and smile so much I’m getting wrinkles. My pre-child wrinkles are all from frowning.
Life was always good to me. But since I became a mother life has been its best yet.
Unbeknownst to me my neighbour gave birth to her first child this morning at 6.09. I wonder, does she realise the adventure she has started out on?