I'd like to think I've pretty much got my crap together as a mother, especially as a mother of a toddler. While other moms were serene and perfectly content being moms of newborns and enjoying those tender moments I was busy losing my shit back then. I've pretty much got it together now. I truly enjoy the passion, curiosity and energy that toddlerhood brings with it.
I still have my moments though. Moments when I want to cry out of frustration because meal time always seems to be a battle. Moments when I think I just need thirty seconds of silence to maintain my sanity. Moments when my back hurts so bad and I think I cannot haul a twenty nine pound toddler up on a changing table to put her clothes on one more time. Moments when cooking dinner with a toddler underfoot hollering "Mommy, Mommy, look look!" seems impossible because I really want to drop it all to sit on the floor to look, but part of being mom means making dinner too.
Moments when I plead with Evie for just thirty seconds of quiet, please. And she looks at me and says, "Momma. You crazy!" and we both dissolve into fits of giggles.
Moments when her pure unadulterated joy at seeing a bulldozer or a backhoe on the way home from school dissolve all the tension of the day and make me grin.
Moments when, with her bat ears, she hears a train, helicopter or airplane, starts excitedly searching exclaiming, "Choo choo!" "Helitopter!" or "Airpwane!" and I, too, am caught up in her excitement.
Moments, tiny, tiny moments filled with silly faces, swing castles, play ground slides, kisses, neck squeezes, ring around the rosy, jumping, skipping, laughing and loving. Moments I know I'll look back in thirty seconds, thirty months and thirty years, while wondering how we ever made it through and thinking it was all worth it.
Moments that now take me back the Summer after my High school graduation and singing along with Dave Matthews Band, the space between the tears we cry is the laughter that keeps us comin' back for more. Knowing in my heart and in my head that every tear, every moment of frustration, every time I bit my tongue to keep from telling my bright beautiful curious daughter to hurry up are all worth it to spend the rest of my life being her mother.