It all started 5 and a half years ago; the moment my first son was wrenched into this world.
I lay there battered, torn, exhausted, broken and shell shocked.
I lay there ecstatic, proud, glowing, humbled and bursting with happiness.
And so began the unrelenting, meander between utter joy and absolute despair. The clash of the opposing titans. War and Peace. No single day has passed since without the giddy highs and flailing lows that come with watching, guiding and dragging our offspring along in this mad world. It is exhilarating and it is bone-achingly frustrating, it is euphoric and it is despairing, it is lucid and it is ultimately baffling. Paradoxical, whimsical, magical, psychological, farcical… but I love it all! I have moments when I regularly want to scream but they are so tantalisingly juxtaposed with the replete satisfaction and joy of unerring love that our offspring give us, that I thankfully swallow many (some) of my tirades. I can find myself humming Katie Melua’s ‘Closest Thing to Crazy’ whilst rocking on my heels and leaning into the drinks cabinet but some little human will scoot past, high five my bum with an orange stegosaurus and yell ‘mummy is in OUR gang, come to the teepee for secret business’ and suddenly I am full of clarity and warmth and all is well with the world.
Parenting truly is THE mother of all dichotomies.
For the shit, theres the giggles, for the mess, theres the creativity, for the embarrassment, theres the pride, for the mischief, theres the kindness…… I feel the moments will change but the underlying foundations of colliding opposing emotions will forever ebb and flow until the day I die. Sure I feel like I am being tested, I feel like I am down right crazy but my word am I privileged to be right where I am, forever somewhere betwixt delirium and delight.
