What does it feel like not to be tired?
What does it feel like to ease out of bed
With a smile on your face, all set to embrace
The day of unknowns that’s ahead?
I only remember the joltings
From my sleep at “you’re kidding” AM;
For dummies, or milk, or things of that ilk,
And feeling “Here I go again”.
What’s it like spending time getting ready
So you’re really set up for the day?
To consider your dresses with minimum stresses
And wear just what you’d like to each day?
I can only remember the scrabbling
For clothes close by and uncreased and clean
Speedy makeup, brush hair, and no time to care
If this top really goes with these jeans.
What’s it feel like not to be rushing
To the gym, work or the supermarket?
Not to have to text mates, let them know you’ll be late
‘Cause the toddler just weed on the carpet?
I only remember the running,
The “get a move on”s and “please hurry up”s
The skipping of meals, subbing trainers for heels,
Necking coffee lukewarm in half-cups.
What’s it like not to plan around children?
Around naptimes, and bottles and bums?
What’s it like to just live in the moment
And take everything as it comes?
I’m sure there was a time when I came first;
When I just had to think about me.
There sure was a time when my day was all mine
And I could take an un-audienced wee.
I could wear clothes that wouldn’t hide milk stains,
Book impromptu all adult soirées.
Go for drinks after work and get drunk, go berserk
And then wallow hung-over for days.
But now I’m a parent, it’s different.
I hardly go ‘out out’ at all.
Instead I push swings and play with plastic things
At the small people’s each beck and call.
Now I’m a champion cuddler,
I’m a maker of hidden-veg lunch
I do kid-drama sessions; my Peppa impression
Is definitely best of the bunch.
Nowadays I get to hand-hold
I put plasters on sore little knees.
I wipe away tears, carry bags and give cheers
And guess where they’ve hidden my keys.
These days, it’s not always easy.
It’s hard, unrelenting and tough
There’s no time to blink, and I constantly think
Am I doing this all well enough?
But wherever would I be without them?
If I’d never turned into a mother?
If I’d never breathed in and smelled new baby skin
And never known love like no other?
I can’t imagine my life without them
And I don’t want to think how I’d weather
If we couldn’t just be our unique family
Making life, best we can, all together.
I wouldn’t be less of a person
I just wouldn’t be what I’ve become
And I like being me, though it’s tiring, I see
That I love being Me, as their Mum.
I thank them for shaking my life up
With their crazy, all consuming glee
I know life without them (and their total mayhem)
Would be life as a less type of me.
Michelle Harris 2016