Friday, September 2, 2011


Like every latte drinking/thick black framed eye-glass wearing/hipster wanna-be I like love Mumford and Sons.  You know when you are listening/reading/watching anything and you are all like "Oh, my God this is so cool and the next big thing- I have to tell everyone I know about this.  I am like an awesome trend-setter."  And than you figure out everyone already knows about it and actually you are just the last person on that next big thing's band-wagon.
That was me and Mumford and Sons.

I was listening to my Mumford and Sons' Pandora station, because yes I am  that obvious, and I heard the above song.  It's called Timeshel.

You know when you are listening to a song and you actually catch the lyrics and you are all like "Oh my God that is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard."  And than you find yourself crying.
Me, all the time.
I am a sucker for a good lyric.

I was that moody teen listening to Tori Amos.
In my room.
In the dark. 
Pathetic, yes.
But I swore Tori got me.  She just really got me.  And I'd listen to Precious Things and rewind that one part, if you are/were a Tori fan you know that one part I am talking about, and listen to it over and over, and be all like "YES! God, Tori gets me, that's SO how my moody teen-self feels."  But I was actually a total virgin so now I look back at my moody teen-self and laugh at her.
Silly, silly girl.
She should have been at the mall instead.

Back to Mumford and Sons.
So I was listening to Timeshel and I heard these lyrics:
"And you are the mother
The mother of your baby child
The one to whom you gave life
And you have your choices
And these are what make man great
His ladder to the stars."

And this is where I get all serious.
Because sometimes being a mom is hard.  There are those moments when all I want to do is run away.  And I feel like I can't do another minute of this thing we call motherhood.  And all my decisions suck eggs.  And I am doing it all wrong.

How do we do this thing called motherhood?  Everyday. And not fear screwing it all up?

But I do this thing called motherhood.  Everyday.
And everyday my choices matter.  And even the bad ones matter.  Because he and she are mine.
They are mine.
And they matter.
And my choices shape who and what they are.
And who they will be.

Man, that is heavy. 
But as much as that weighs on me it makes me feel better.  Because I AM doing this thing called motherhood.  Everyday.  And even though, at times, I feel like I am doing it all wrong, I am still am doing it.  And that matters.

"But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As sisters we will stand and we'll hold your hand
Hold your hand."


1 comment:

Thanks for your comments- they are like pennies from heaven.


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