I used to think that mom is great.
I still remember how I got mad at my mom.
I slammed my bedroom door, hard. Threw myself on the bed and cried like there’s no tomorrow.
Perhaps my teenager-hormones were raging, or I was just being an a$$hole, but I did that a lot when I was in my puberty age. After the rage faded away, I felt guilty.
But I was too exhausted from crying my eyes out, so I fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was dinner time.
I opened the door slowly, thinking of how guilty I was. But I would not say sorry. Because that was not a habit of our family back then. Lol.
That was an excuse.
I was just too ashamed to say sorry. It felt so awkward to say sorry to my parents back then.
But then, I would see my mom preparing foods.
She looked at me, and just casually said “Here, have dinner, I cooked your favorites.”
Like I did not just shouted at her.
Like I did not just slammed the door and screamed at her saying how I hate being born.
There, I thought, mom is so great.
Even when your child is the one at fault, and then they yell at you, yet you still forgive them nonetheless.
And you still love them, much.
Heck. I shouted at my mom but she cooked my favorite foods in return. What kind of a person would do that?
Only a mom would.
I used to think a mom is so great.
They have such a huge heart, so huge that we could not comprehend.
I think not even a mom herself realize what a big heart she has.
And then, I become a mom.
When I wrote this, I have one daughter who is not even 2 yet.
But she already taught me a lot.
Being her mom is holding and rocking to her sleep, not matter how sleep-deprived I am.
Being her mom is dealing with baby blues which made me cried and feeling so depressed for few months.
Being her mom is having my heart overflowed with joy, only by watching her smile widely and brightly.
Being her mom is praying for her well-being every night, hoping that God will always looking out for her.
Being her mom is paying attention to her bowel movement and no matter how disgusting it is, to wipe her sh!t when thing gets messy.
Being her mom is getting angry at her and then getting so guilty for being angry at her.
Being her mom is looking at her asleep and hoping that she would have a great life ahead of her.
Being her mom is having zero privacy, like… having a shower with door open wide, or brushing teeth while she’s standing just beside my leg, or even pooping with her standing at the door looking at me.
Being her mom is getting so mad when she misbehaves, but easily melted away when she tries to make me smile.
Being her mom is dancing with her no matter how ridiculous it looks.
Being her mom is singing to her in public even though I have a terrible voice (and out of tune).
Being her mom is refraining myself from buying new bra even though I need it, but easily buy her new books even though she has a lot of them already.
Being her mom is deliberately bought Happy Meal for the sake of a toy to make her excited.
Being her mom is sometimes getting so fed-up of feeding her and just stop it mid-way thinking that later when she gets hungry she would ask for food herself.
Being her mom is reading her the same book for a hundredth time.
Being her mom is answering to her endless questions.
Being her mom is explaining things I don’t really understand.
Being her mom is wanting to make her have lots of fun, either by walking around the neighborhood, blowing out bubbles when we took a bath, or taking her to new places and experience things.
Being her mom is crying when she’s in pain and I felt hopeless, but trying not to cry in front of her no matter what.
Being her mom is having less quality time with her dad, but it’s okay.
Being her mom is watching her throws her tantrum and trying to ignore it (also ignoring how people stare and judge the situation) for her own good.
Being her mom is worrying about her when she’s not well, and hoping to have some kind of magic to transfer any pain she’s feeling to myself.
Being her mom is being proud of her, even over small things (and probably biased) like how she said her first words, or how she giggles.
Being her mom is teaching me to be more patient.
Being her mom is contently cuddling with her.
Being her mom is learning to speak better words, to refrain myself from cursing.
Being her mom is sometimes getting so upset that I pinched her hard and getting so guilty afterwards.
Being her mom is realizing that it’s okay not to be a perfect mom.
Being her mom is feeling so incredible everytime I see her and I remember how she used to be inside my womb (and started out as a very tiny thingy!)
Being her mom is spending my time with her and yet sometimes I wish for an hour or two being alone and enjoying my quality time.
Being her mom is screaming at her when she made me upset, yet has the urge to hug her immediately afterwards because I felt like a horrible mom.
Being her mom, is trying to be a better version of myself so that she could also be a better person than I am.
Being her mom is having my heart feels like bursting out happiness and rainbows and glitters sparkles and pastel-colored unicorns only by seeing her happy and excitedly laughing.
Being her mom still has a long way to go.
Being her mom means I’m going to experience more things I never know before.
Being her mom made me realize,
A mom is not just great.
A mom is beyond great.
She’s beyond awesome.
She’s beyond wonderful.
A mom is a hug you get everytime you feel sad.
A mom is a cupcake to cheer you up.
A mom is the clear vast blue sky after the storm.
A mom is the warm drink when weather is cold.
A mom is the bright light in our soul.
disclaimer: Analogies are all originally made-up by being mellow missing my mom who lives in a different city, and at the same time, being proud as a mom myself.
Jakarta, 30 May 2018.