Erin Britt essays

Share Mamalode Share Mamalode

“You’re so sentimental now.”

I respond defensively at first.
But then,
I think,
how would I otherwise
make it through?

I pour myself
a glass at 5pm,
or meet friends at a park,
to laugh off the day.

But then,
when it’s the middle of the night
and the bottle’s empty
and the friends are asleep,
but my baby is awake,
what then?

When I’m so tired
that anger is the first emotion
I feel
when the few minutes of sleep
I’ve gotten
are interrupted,
I stop myself.

I’ve dreamed of you.
I’ve wanted you.
You are everything to me.

If I don’t take a moment,
to watch them while they sleep on me,
how can I deal with them
while they’re awake?

If I don’t take a moment
to notice and remark
on their tiny hands and pudgy feet,
how can I stand
the trail of disaster
they leave in their wake?

Is a toddler whiney?
Is a teenager moody?
A mother is sentimental.

I’ve seen the mother
of older kids
glancing at me in the grocery store
as I corral my children.
She looks
at the chaos
and says,
“Enjoy it. It goes by so quickly.”

She’s a sap, too,
like all of the mothers before her.

Just like me. Just like you.
Just like all of us
when we remember
our baby asleep
on our chest.

Read more by Anne Flavin on Mamalode!


About the Author

Erin Britt

Share Mamalode Share Mamalode
This article and the theme Feets & Feats is brought to you by VIM & VIGR.
To learn about sponsoring a Mamalode theme contact:
Facebook Comments