MAMA LOVE


With so many people close to me announcing their pregnancies, or giving birth soon, or planning a second or third child, I thought I’d dedicate this blog entry to all the mums. I really don’t want it to be a soppy piece – I mean with kids, we have enough to cry about on a daily basis (tears of joy/ anger/ hopelessness/ exhaustion – us mothers cry for it all!), so I’m going to try and keep it light hearted as I give a shout out to God’s perfect creation – the Mama Bear. 

Sometimes I wonder how I can mother two little people; I feel like a kid myself most days. I still wear my hair in pig tails, I still complain when I have to get out of bed in the mornings and I still prefer to eat chocolate for breakfast – pretty much like a kid right? And here I am, responsible for the lives of these two human beings, who look up to me with those big round eyes for .. well.. for EVERYTHING.

When I was a new mother, trying to wrap my head around this whole parenting thing, I decided to run to the only place I knew would make it all better – my own mother’s lap. Ok, I’m too big for her lap, but she still knows how to make it all better. I share a wonderful relationship with my mum. She is warm and cuddly and gives the best advice (ONLY when asked), she doesn’t complain, she doesn’t shout, she’s stopped giving hidings so that’s a plus too. When I’m stressed out or going through a particularly difficult patch, she has this ability to make me feel like it’s not so bad. She is an amazing granny, with the patience of a great school teacher, she can whip something out of nothing, she can bake tarts and banana loaves AND she makes a fabulous cup of tea. I want to be to my kids, the mother my mum was and is to me. 

I still find it overwhelming – if I don’t feed them, they won’t eat. If I don’t bath and put them to bed, they’d run around dirty, like zoo animals, until they passed out from exhaustion. If I don’t nurture their emotional and mental development, it could adversely impact the type of adults they become. The ramifications of the way I raise these bambinos is FRIGHTENING, to say the least! There goes the light heartedness, now I have you quaking in your boots! BUT all is not lost mums!

The wonderful thing about being a mother is that natural instinct that kicks in the moment you know you’re going to be a mama. I thank God for oxytocin everyday, the self produced hormone that basically gives you no option but to love and protect your children – even when they spit at you or give you a slap in public. The love that a mother has for a child, is unlike any other. Its unexplainable, its unconditional, and its unending – no matter how big and ugly you become, your mama will always love you, isn’t that amazing! AND what’s even more amazing is that its reciprocated unconditionally – no matter how angry I make my children (sometimes just for fun), no matter how many times I jam their fingers in the door (sometimes by mistake), no matter how many times I threaten to leave, I’m still the one they call out for when they get hurt, when they need a cuddle, when they just want someone to LISTEN without saying a word in response. 

It’s a long hard journey raising children. It’s bittersweet with so many poignant moments – too many to document. From the moment their little hearts start beating, until they stop and even beyond depending on how your life pans out, your children will change the way you think and feel about things that didn’t matter before. They will give you a new and different and often fresh perspective on issues you had made your mind up on already. They will teach you things you didn’t know and often in growing children, they grow you too. 

The day I became a mother was a pretty ordinary Monday morning, there was nothing spectacular about the day, the season, nor the hour. There were no shooting stars or fireworks and my baby came into the world just as millions before him had, and millions after him would. However the day I became a mother, was the day my life really began. Yes I had lived and loved, I had cried and laughed, but nothing could have prepared me for the adoration, the adulation, the absolute and resolute devotion I felt for the pink wrinkled blob they placed on my chest. I was forever changed – for the better – I was to be called Mum. 

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