I don’t feel like a mother. That’s someone older, wiser and less crazy. Its true that’s what my little ones call me, mostly when they are mad or can’t find me, but its strange to be celebrating Mother’s Day and it actually concerning me. I’d much rather celebrate my own mother or someone else, I just don’t believe I’m mature enough yet to qualify.
This all reminds me of a scene that happened a year or so ago. I trucked the kids in their double limo-style stroller to an event at the local college Eddy was speaking at. It was only 7 years ago that I walked those halls, I ate at that dining center, I was depressed over there and laughed hysterically in that dorm hallway. But as I stood there feeling as if time had stood still, a cry from the stroller hurdled me down into the chasm that has grown from that time to now.
Much has happened since then and I am certainly not the same for good or bad. The responsibilities and worries I carry now, dwarf those care-free days in a humbling way. I wouldn’t go back, but going forward means being a mother, a reality I guess I’m more willing to accept now that I know and love these two precious little people entrusted to me. A mother I am learning to be.