Monday Musings: I Will Still Love You Even When...

                                                                       Source: Uploaded by user via Belinda on Pinterest

I will still love you even when you draw with texta all over your legs and face while I'm on the phone to my best friend who was to be my only source of adult conversation in the whole evening.

I will still love you even when you scream and kick and thrash about so I can't put you in the shower to wash the texta off.

I will still love you even when I drop you off at kindy tomorrow and everyone thinks I'm a terrible mother who doesn't shower you because you still have remnants of red coloured texta all over your body (and you won't be able to explain that your mother did eventually shower you, but it was still impossible to get text of that magnitude off your skin).

I will still love you even when you scream at the top of your lungs for half an hour and I am sure a neighbour will come to the door any minute and tell me to do something to shut that kid up (either that or get a call from DOCS because someone thinks you are being murdered).

I will still love you even when you scream through The Biggest Loser which is the only adult show I get to watch in the whole morning and night.

I will still love you when you kick me in the shins and tell me I'm an idiot (oh yes, that's my personal favourite).

Why?

Because there was a time when you were first born where I didn't feel like a mother. Where, for whatever reasons my mind and hormones and whatever else decided to launch a full on revolt and remove any sense of joy that I had anticipated feeling in regards to your arrival and indeed my life in general. And for a considerable amount of time I made that mean that I was not a 'real' mother. Even though I could acknowledge myself for clawing my way out of that dark hole and I was eternally grateful for feeling like I was getting a second chance at my life, I still felt like no matter what I did or how much time would pass, I could never make it up to you. It was like there was an unwritten testament that your Dad was the 'proper' parent in this equation and I wasn't because I had failed you and had not been able to care for you the way that I should have when you were first born.

But now that feeling has gone. And in its place is a woman who finally feels and knows with all of her heart and being that she is your mother, in every sense of the word. So even when you are at your very worst and I am being tested beyond measure (like tonight!), I know how lucky I am. Lucky to have survived and come through the other side of post natal depression. Lucky that I can feel every bit of it - the love, the frustration, the anger, the joy. Lucky to experience being so connected to another human being and having so much love for them that nothing they could do could make you not love them. Lucky to be the person who can teach you right from wrong. And lucky to be the person who, after the screams have died down and the tears have dried up and the promises of being good tomorrow have been made, gets to wrap you in my arms, kiss you goodnight and thank God that you are mine.