It gets better. There, I said it.

From the moment I announced my first unplanned pregnancy (yes, first) it seemed everybody was telling me, "It gets easier" or "It gets better".  There were times that I sincerely wondered what they meant.

What gets easier? Is this supposed to be hard?

Then, it hit me. Harder than I could have ever imagined. It was more than hard; it was painful. See, my pregnancies were not textbook in anyway. I had problem after problem after problem. Luckily, none were serious and all of my children were born full term and healthy. Physically, mentally and emotionally I was hurting, however.

Then, those first contractions hit and I thought to myself, "Here we go, it's going to get better". Six hours later, I had a daughter. I was alone. It was perfect. I know that doesn't seem right. But, those moments alone with my daughter in the hospital after giving birth were so empowering. I couldn't have been happier. She was amazing in the hospital. But, the second we got home, it started going down hill, fast. And, the hill seemed to never end.

And, then, a couple of kids later, I was going crazy. I never had a "break", whatever that is. I was losing myself. My children didn't have a mother, they had a caregiver. There IS a difference. It was so black and white for me. Doing what I was supposed to do but never really being there. I was like the dreaded step-ford wives.

Something had to change. ME. Kids will change and grow every day. But, they have speed bumps in their journeys, too. My worst mistake was thinking that if I was a perfect mother, I would have perfect children, which would result in a perfect life. That isn't how it works. First off, I was nowhere near perfect. Secondly, what is "perfection", when it comes to children? Because, I don't know.

I changed. I had a "break". I learned who I was again. And, then, I got to know who my children are. Not who I expected them to be, but amazing nonetheless.

I don't know how, but I don't miss a beat anymore. That's not to say that accidents don't happen. But, I am at peace with the accidents, the mistakes the trying times. I don't get frustrated. I am a happier mom and because of that I have happier children. Forget trying to be perfect, happy is where it's at.

And, now, life is easy. I am not a slave to my children or to my duties as a mother. Yes, I am a mother. Yes, my children come first in my life, but they are not my whole life. Not to say that it's not possible to live that way and be happy, or that how I do things is right and any other way is wrong. The point is, I had to figure out what works for us. Not just them. Not just me. All of us and no one else.

Once the balance was restored, once we found a way to make "us" work, it suddenly became simple. I am no longer that mother stressing over every little detail, I am no longer that mother who has a short temper with her playful children. I am no longer that mother who aims for perfection, knowing it will never be reached.

My children run free. They play. They imagine. They learn. They are people. I guide them in the right direction, but I don't control their every move. This way we are all free to be ourselves and do things in our own way. 

I successfully completed FIVE loads of laundry today. Yes, the clothes are all either folded in drawers or hung in closets. Dinner was served right on time. It's 8:15 and I have the house to myself, so to speak. They all went to bed, at the same time, with little fuss. I have "me" time. More than I really need, honestly. I was able to make a trip to the grocery store alone with the kids, without stressing. I never thought I'd see the day...

To everyone who ever said, "It gets better", or to anyone wondering if it ever will be better...it did get better.