Motherhood, as it turned out, isn’t as straightforward as looking into your eyes 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 another night. 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, my life would never make sense.