“What would your High School Self be surprised about you today?” my friend once asked.
I required no lengthy pondering: “My High School Self would be surprised by how hard it is to be a mom.”
I always knew I wanted a family, but I can’t say that beyond snuggles and smiles, I anticipated all the blood, sweat, and tears:
The way my body would be physically strained, stretched, and torn open wide, only to be left more saggy and floppy than before.
The way I would function in a foggy exhaustion, day after tedious day – while years passed by in a blink.
The way my spirit would at times feel crushed by the weight of caring for tiny humans relying on me for their wellbeing.
The way my toddler would refuse to wear clothes but then demand to wear a pink stocking cap.
The way I’d doubt if I’m doing a good job or just racking up reasons for them to see a therapist some day.