From labor pains to looking at my babies for the first time to watching them sleep to hearing them say "I love you", being a mother has taken my breath away.
And it's time that I learn to breathe again. LITERALLY.
I find myself holding my breath all the time. I'm holding my breath, waiting for someone to wake up, someone to fall and hurt themselves, someone to do something totally gross (aka. put their mouths on the toilet bowl scrubber container - Oh my gosh, I want to throw up thinking about that incident.), someone to throw a tantrum in the middle of Target while another mom with two small, well-behaved children looks on, patiently waiting for my child to finish so she can have access to the shopping carts we're blocking with our traffic-stopping display. (I have healed from this experience and since had a successful Target shopping trip. I have not yet forgotten the trauma, however.)
Isn't it funny how a little experience is so educational? Perhaps "funny" is not the most accurate word. It's not at all funny at the time, but I am so much wiser. I now KNOW that my boys WILL wake up early, fall and get hurt, shove disgusting things in their mouths, throw tantrums at the most inappropriate times, have accidents involving all types of body fluids and create all kinds of opportunities for me to learn to walk in humility and just enjoy the moment.
And, if I will let them, while they are enjoying life right in the middle of all the things that I'm, for some crazy reason, hoping won't happen, they will teach me to breathe again.
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