This Too, Shall Pass

Sitting in the dark, holding a crying, hungry, coughing, inconsolable baby at 2am.

This too, shall pass.

Listening to your baby finding her voice at 4am, sounding more like a mating alley cat every day.

This too, shall pass.

Surviving on broken sleep and lots of coffee for months (years?) on end.

This too, shall pass.

Staring at an empty fridge, making vegemite sandwiches for lunch again.

This too, shall pass.

Walking into the school yard in your slippers, stuffing a nursing pad back into your bra, silver trails of mucus (not yours) decorating your shoulder.

This too, shall pass.

Changing nappies, wiping bottoms, being peed on, being pooed on, accidents on the floor, wet beds, peeing in the bath, smells at dinner time,

This too, shall pass.

Feeling lumpy and overweight, no make-up, no exercise, no nails, no fragrance, no watch, no jewellery, no time, no ownership of your breasts, no coherent thoughts, no career, no income, no idea.

This too, shall pass.

Battles at dinner time, at bath time, at bed time.  Fighting about clothes, and making beds, and doing homework, and sharing, and not picking noses. Especially at dinner time.  Boogers are not a food group.

This too, shall pass.

Four of you squeezing onto a couch for bedtime stories, lying in bed making shadow animals.

This too, shall pass.

Being able to kiss and cuddle your children without fear of rejection or embarrassment.

This too, shall pass.

Being able to pick your darlings up without damaging your back.

This too, shall pass.

Spontaneous 'concerts' involving made up songs and dances that have you rushing for the video camera.

This too, shall pass.

First smiles, first words, first steps.

This too, shall pass.

Fingerpainted, hand made cards, potplants made of pop-sticks, unrecognisable creations, drawings  made with oodles of love and glitter every day.

This too, shall pass.

Strangers in the street telling you how beautiful your children are.

This too, shall pass.