The Tip Of My Mommy Iceberg

I can’t remember the last time I wrote a sentence that wasn’t a Facebook status update or a quickly scrawled entry in the journal to my baby son. It feels strange, like I’ve never written before. It’s now occurring to me, I haven’t. Because “I” am a whole new me. I’m a mom now. Mr. P’s mom.

Sure, I am still everything I was before 5:39am that September Thursday morning he was born. But now I am all that and more. My days are filled with cuddling and kisses and milkies and diapers and adventures and shrieking “stinky, stinky, stinky, stinky, stinky” in my highest-pitched voice as I pretend to smell his soft little seven and a half month old feet. Our first inside joke, just between us.

His eyes light up and his lips crack open revealing a smile so big that his face can hardly contain it. This “stinky” serenade brings me so much joy. A joy I could never have imagined. A joy so big my world can hardly contain it. And I realize, as I type this, that this is what abundance is all about.

This darling boy was born and brought with him a jackpot of joy so big there’s enough for all of us. And then some. And yes I have moments that I’m sweaty and teary and anxious. Sometimes these moments last whole days in the marathon until Bob gets home from work.

Sure, I am┬átired and question myself more often than I do not. But I try to remember to tell myself, it’s okay. I’m new at this. I start out every single day as a beginner, entering brand new territory as Mr. P grows one day bigger, wiser. He leads the way, I follow.

Like today, leaving him with his new babysitter for just the third time. I wrote that so effortlessly as if I didn’t agonize about the search for the babysitter for two months. One baby step at a time. Like this blog post, almost fully written and I wrote one sentence at a time. I wrote myself into a peace and a focus and a flow that reminds me who I am at the very core.

I have so much more to say, but for today I offer this: the very tip of my mommy iceberg. I’ll be back to go deeper below the surface. Right now, I’m going home to see my little angel. I can’t wait.