Motherhood, as it turned out, isn’t as straightforward as looking into
while bearing a sparkle in mine
while cradling you with a familiar lullaby
as I rest my cheeks against this warm headrest on the family’s old rocking chair.
No, it isn’t as straightforward as that,
and in fact, there are no rocking chairs.
With you, I am somewhere in between
being obsessed with routines
and reminding myself to
embrace this mess.
I am “go to bed by eight”
and discovering Duplo blocks in the fruit basket.
With you, time is neither moving too fast nor too slow,
it is both of them
and it is us
living in different time zones.
You want things now
and I want to put things back where they belong,
things like those Duplo blocks in the fruit basket
and things like your bedtime
that you have deferred
It is you
growing up too fast
and it is me
waiting for you to nap in the carseat
as I circle this drive-thru the third time.
With you, I am constantly wanting to keep you safe
and fervently wanting you to colour in the world map
to represent all the places you’ve kissed the sun
and played in muddy puddles.
With you, things are neither this nor that, they never quite make sense.
But without you,
would never make sense.