Sometimes I am startled by what motherhood has done to me.
Sometimes I am in awe of just how big my heart has gotten; I still don’t know how it fits underneath my skin.
Sometimes I wonder where I would be without my boys, all three of them, and the possibilities scare me.
Sometimes I want to hit the pause button because everything is moving too fast. I watch as feet dance and fingers color and I breath in the smell of childhood, deep long breaths, because soon it will fade.
Sometimes I cry because I am Hurt. Happy. Angry. Afraid. Tired. Grateful.
Sometimes I scream, bang my fists agains the wall, crumple to the floor and let the pain of autism in until it swallows me whole and I am drained. I am stronger after this.
Sometimes I lie to protect the innocent.
Sometimes I am confrontational. Sometimes I am soft.
Sometimes I forget to be grateful until someone else’s tragedy reminds me that I am so very blessed.
Sometimes I pick fights because I need a good excuse to throw a tantrum. Yep, at 31.
Sometimes I stare at my husband as if we just met. I fall in love with him all over again.
Sometimes I shop as if we have more money in the bank than we really do.
Sometimes I am jealous. Sometimes your grass does look greener.
Sometimes I forget how much I love music until a good song comes on the radio.
Sometimes I do not take care of myself. I don’t wax my eyebrows or get a pedicure.
Sometimes I B.S. my way through a conversation.
Sometimes I eat dessert before dinner.
Sometimes I am forgetful, apologetic, clumsy, and impolite.
Always I am in love with my superman, my monchichi, and my husband……….even though sometimes they drive me crazy.