Hi all Steemians,
My name is Naómi-Louise from Pretoria, South Africa. I'm married and a stay-at-home mom with two daughters aged 6 and 2. It's not all I'm about, though some days it definitely feels that way. This is my second post, of hopefully many more, on Steemit.
From normal to the brink
“There is no way to be a perfect mother, but a million ways to be a good one.” – Jill Chhurchill
I’m definitely not a Pinterest mom. I’m scatter-brained, my ducks are never in a row (some days they just wonder off to somebody else’s pond), I have so many screws loose, it’s a wonder I don’t fall apart. Marbles? What marbles? Most days I feel like I’ve been put through a tumble dryer. My brain shrunk and whatever didn’t stretch, wrinkled.
Since becoming a mother I travel more. I take daily trips to ‘the BRINK’. The brink of insanity, madness, disgust and perplexity. I hear, see, smell and do to strangest things. Before motherhood, I didn’t know sooo much liquid, muck and vomit can come from one tiny baby. Some nappies make you wonder when and where they ate the rotten carcass. I get to go to EVERY restroom, wherever we go, no matter what we’re doing, every time we do.
I’m horror-struck by some of the things they put in their mouths – like chewing gum stuck under some random table, bathwater, packets of (DO NOT INGEST) silica, polystyrene, leaves… - but serve creamy chicken on rice and they refuse outright to even try one bite!
I’ve learned to ‘answer’ the ‘tring-tring’ of the calculator and ‘talk’ to granny to prevent a nuclear melt-down. I’ve learned that the only make-over I get, will be from my kids. I can’t remember when last I had both legs shaved at the same time. I’ve learned to go to the toilet with a child on my lap. In the past three years I’ve enjoyed less than a hand full of nights where I got to sleep for more than five hours.
Somebody and Nobody lives with us now. Somebody made the mess and Nobody knows who did it.
More often than not, I get to take trips to ‘the CORE’ of happiness, love and understanding. I understand that nothing is ever perfect. Least of all, me. I understand that my kids will love me unconditionally even if they hate me sometimes. I understand that I’m not a complete failure even if I feel like it some days. I hold my girls in my arms until they fall asleep every day. I don’t know better happiness than that.
Becoming a mother changed me in every possible way, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.