I was having a week. A few of them, actually. I had been increasingly anxious and could feel the weight of my stress like a boulder sitting on my chest. Six months in as a full time working mom, I wasn’t finding it easier to be away from my daughter. If anything, it was harder. I was missing everything – or at least that’s how it felt. I was trudging through work, letting my to-do list grow as I incessantly checked the daycare app, flipped through pictures on my phone, and thought about all the things I could be doing if I weren’t there.
I decided to take a work day off just for me…which really meant getting everything done around the house that had been piling up for weeks (or months, if I’m being completely honest). My husband encouraged me to truly take the day “off.” I smiled and nodded as I ushered him out of the house and started tackling my laundry list.
I was completing small house projects that I had put off and feeling my stress become lighter, one checkbox at a time. I had committed to getting as much as I could done in the morning and to run just a few errands before settling down for lunch and a truly relaxing afternoon. Who knows, perhaps I would read a book or do some yoga or something just for me. After all, it was a day for me. And just as I was settling down, I checked the daycare app and saw that my daughter wasn’t wanting to eat or sleep and was running a low-grade fever.
Me day over.
After picking up and bringing her home, I held her, and she settled. I nursed her, and she finally ate. I rocked her, and she finally slept. As I sunk into the couch, feeling the weight of my sweet, sick girl replace the anxiety on my chest – I finally felt truly relaxed. And that’s when it hit me – mom magic.
I may not have accomplished all that I had set out to do that day or all the days that filled up the nine months before then. I may be forgetful and scattered. I may feel like an absolute, certified, crazy person most of the time. I may feel like the day gets the best of me and my husband gets the worst. I may fail over and over again. But, I am a mom. And that comes with so much magic on its own. It’s an ingrained superpower that cannot be matched.
It’s the medicine your child needs when he or she is ill. It’s the gentle hand that guides them up the stairs and down the slide. It’s a smile-inducing good morning and the sweetest, pouty-lipped drift off to sleep. It’s the voice that soothes their doubts and the words they always need to hear. And for no other reason, but that you are mom.