Sometimes it feels like I'm playing house. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I'm still a tiny 12-year-old girl with buck teeth, fat, kinky plaits and crazy ideas of what it means to be an adult. In reality - I am so far from being that little girl. About 90lbs and 12 years away, to be frank. But as I roll out of bed, jarred awake by the shrill alarm and toddler fingers poking my eyelids, as I pad across the room in search of my glasses, wearing the same nightgown I wore as a teen, at that moment I don't feel 'big' enough to be a mom. To be responsible for another human being. Yet I am and have been for almost three years. It still comes as a shock at times to know that 'mom will do it' means me . I'll do it. That the tiny voice roaming through the house yelling for MOMMMY is really searching for me . At times the reality of it seems so absurd I completely detach from it. I instinctively want to turn to my mom, a more adulty adult, to take over.
I am a bipolar mama, surviving on coffee and dark humour. This blog will chronicle my many adventures as a mom.