From across the room, I hear a faint squeak, and instantly think to myself, “no, not already! Please stay sleeping just a little longer.”
Posted up on the couch in Monday’s pajamas (today is Wednesday, right?), my typing grows more rapid and panicked, as I hammer away at a work project I desperately need to make a dent in.
Another minuscule squeak echoes from inside the bassinet, and I know I only have a few seconds to wrap up what I’m working on.
I sigh, discouraged by the fact that I have hardly made any progress this week, and deadlines are looming.
These days, it feels like it’s almost impossible to keep up with my workload. But I keep trying – a minute here, an hour there. I piece together what little free time I have, dreaming about the days when I lived for my work, and the incredible sense of pride and accomplishment it gave me. I hardly know that girl anymore.
I hear you stirring a bit more, and as I close the laptop, I struggle knowing it’s already time to switch back into “mom” mode. When you’ve spent most of your adult life being driven by your career, it feels quite foreign, and honestly, a bit disappointing, when you can’t give it your all.
I put on my “mom” face and I look down into the bassinet. Those big beautiful eyes are searching for my familiar face.
You let out a big yawn, bringing your tiny hands to your face, and close those curious brown eyes in response. You lift your eyelids slowly, and realizing it’s me standing over you, your mouth curls into the sweetest smile.
I smile too, because your rosy little cheeks and your tiny little feet instantly remind me that I’m so lucky to be your mama.
I remember in that moment that you’ll never be this little again, that you won’t always yearn for more snuggle time, and that someday you’ll be too embarrassed to hang out with your mama.
And so I hold you close, and savor the feeling of your little body cradled in my arms. I nuzzle you, gently stroking the soft black hair atop your head, and I enjoy every single second of this moment, because I know it won’t last.
For now, my work can wait. Being your mama is the most important job I have.
the northeast ginger 