Some days, the realization that "this is really my life" hits me like a ton of bricks.
I look at Malcolm and my mind turns somersaults, reeling with the fact that he is here. There was a time, not too long ago (although now it feels like ages), that I wished and prayed and grew jealous that I didn't have him. I was consumed with the need for a pregnancy, a baby of my own. I saw friends and family members and even complete strangers with their babies and I almost couldn't handle it.
I wanted it to be me.
Now that it is, I almost can't believe it.
After all that needless stress, I'm somebody's mother. Somebody's lifeline. There is a little person crawling this earth that needs me.
The love I have for my little boy is intoxicating. There is no food, or drink, or other vice that could bring me the same feeling ...
Some mornings, when I see his smile or hear his raspy squeal upon entering his bedroom, I almost can't contain myself. Even the most mundane days, those ruled by the usual baby routine of "wake up, eat, play, nap (for the baby, clean up for me), repeat" are worth getting out of bed for. Even the most mundane days make me wonder: "What was life like before he was with us? How did we ever get along without him?"
In fact, it's those boring, nothing's-really-happening mundane days that show me how blessed I truly am. While I can't ever be "off" and I must always be ready for whatever the little guy needs ... His hunger, or waste, or need for attention always trump my own ... I can't believe how lucky I am. Sure, there are days where I don't get into the bathroom to take care of myself until well into the afternoon. Or days where a certain someone is crabby and only wants to be held (on the hottest day of the summer) ... But it is all worth it.
The mundane days remind me.
On special days like wedding days, or birth days, or even vacation days, the world always looks beautiful. Yet, it's the mundane days that show you true beauty.
I know because I am a someone's mother.
This is my life.
I almost can't believe it.