The invisible load of motherhood
I love being a mom, but I don’t love the loneliness that has come with it.
A tiny hand pulls my hair and the other eagerly slaps my face.
Baah ba ba! Ba ba ba!
Time to wake up mama! My little redhead baby is wide awake and ready for some action. It’s not even 7 AM.
I, on the other hand, want just five more minutes in bed, five more minutes I rarely get.
The smell of poo hits me right away. I get out of bed and grab all the essentials.
Changing my 9-month-old baby turns into a wrestling match. Who knew babies could be so strong?
Mamiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Maaaaamiiiiiiiiii!!!!
Oh, now, that’s my toddler. Now there are two of them.
Mamiiiii I want cereaaaaaaallllllllllll!!!!!
Morning sweetheart! I say in a soft and happy voice.
Mami, I want cereal. I want my cereal. I want milk.
Off we go. I enter the kitchen, baby on one arm, my 3-year-old jumping around me. With cereal on hand, I tell my oldest to grab his bowl and spoon. Next, the milk. Not too hot, not too cold.
Meanwhile, hubby gets the backpack and school lunch ready.
