Hey Mama, you're going to get your life back.
I know maybe right now, you can't see outside this minute.
That you're not even asking for your life, just some sleep.
I know you're touched out. The baby is an accessory you always wear, the toddler is quickly becoming too heavy to lift, but you have no choice.
You're frustrated because your child wants your company for the smallest tasks. Going to the bathroom, getting a snack in a cupboard they can reach.
I'm not going to tell you to savor it, to love it while you still can. To burn memories in your mind of your fingers running through their silken hair.
But there is one promise I can keep, you're going to get your life back.
You'll read books, have hobbies. Everything won’t be accompanied by guilt.
You won't grocery shop with stickers stuck to your pants, unnoticed because you were afraid to look in the mirror.
Your workouts won't be interrupted, you won't have to think twice before planning a trip, leaving the house will be as easy as picking up your keys.
Your house will be clean, your car won't be chaos, your time will be yours.
Time will stretch, it will drag, sometimes the cost of motherhood feels like everything.
I can't say you'll miss these days, but you'll be happy you lived them, and you're going to get your life back.