Having two children has not been easy for me. I think I pray to the God of selfish mothers at least twice a day to PLEASE SEND ME A MASSAGE AND A MARGARITA. I'm not sure if spirited, strong willed children were born before mine. Surely not.
It's taken me three months with this new being to realize she's picking up my anxiety. And so I've thrown myself into calm. It will all happen. It will all get done. Don't walk in circles, don't fret your face into wrinkles. Stop eating the effing Halloween candy.
When Luna was born, I selfishly wished she had some sort of deformity or problem: hoping that she would be mine forever. That's a mother's prayer, wanting your children to need you forever. I don't think I would take back these thoughts.
I know that I can't wish my children into submission. They will grow and bloom, they will hate me, they will lie to me, and hopefully they will come back to me. They will hold me when I need it too. They will teach me in the ways of life. Rhythm above all else. Submit to the rhythm of the earth. The gentle clicking of time is all we know to be true. Love everything as hard as you can.
I always loved that my own mother is such a passionate giver. I want to be like her.
To Juni, my baby gnome: Your little hand reaches for my breast and grabs onto my skin. I know now why people say they want to be wanted. You want me and it feels good. It feels natural. It's easier than anything else I know. You want me and I want you. Nothing is as easy as this. We sleep together and your gentle snoring rocks my impatient thoughts to sleep. I wake often to check your breathing, but I'm not tired. I want to remember this feeling until the day I die. That if I do nothing else, I slept with you very well.
