Sarkastickunt

18 years ago I became a parent for the first time.

At the time, it felt like the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. I thought my life was over.

I didn’t think anything good could ever come of me having a kid and by the way I was treated and at times subsequently ignored, my family believed that to be true as well.

I wasn’t very good at it.

I messed up. A lot.

I went through the motions and hoped I didn’t mar them for life. I didn’t have much help. I just winged it.

And the days sort of melded together.

It became a comfortable routine.

I disciplined and scolded and went to doctor’s appointments and I immunized and enrolled and joined the PTA and baked cookies and braided hair and read stories and tucked faces in and kissed everyone goodnight.

My life was sort of typical. And although I loved my children, I didn’t always love being their mother.

I couldn’t find my joy.

Sure…I had joyful MOMENTS. 

Their first steps. Their birthdays. Their graduations. Knock knock jokes. 

I would see or hear about my friends and their amazing little, perfect lives and their awesome kids and how happy they were. And I’d just smile and nod and pretend I understood what they meant because I felt that too…but the whole time I would be jealous and have this tightness in my insides because maybe I wasn’t feeling what they were feeling because I was a bad mother? Maybe I didn’t feel it because I wasn’t cut out to breed? Maybe I was living the wrong life?

And then…I don’t know what happened. Or when.

I stopped overthinking. I stopped worrying if I was doing it the right way. I stopped trying to please everyone. I just let go.

And something amazing happened.

Once I let my guard down. Once I dropped the walls around my heart….it let the joy in.

And now? I find a hundred different reasons I am blessed every day.

I find it in the sound of my kids laughter.

I find it in the handprints on my walls.

I find it in the ring around my tub.

I find it in the dishes in my sink.

I find it in 5th grade algebra homework.

I find it in the kisses and hugs I get every night before I close my eyes.

I find it in the sound of one of my kids saying my name.

It’s here.

It’s always been.

I just needed to grow up enough to know I had to quit looking for it and just let it find me.