母の日 (Mother's Day)

I always said that I would never have kids. Playing auntie to six gorgeous, bright, unique, totally bonkers nieces and nephews has always been enough. In fact, last December I became a great aunt to twin boys - now that's definitely enough!

Side note: the term 'great aunt' really does make one feel old.

While many of my friends were settling down, getting married, buying houses and having children I enjoyed traveling, buying furniture with corners, and wearing shoes that laughed in the face of sensibility. I had late nights and late mornings with no one to answer to except for my cat.

Then, a few years ago, something changed. Perhaps my wanderlust had been quenched. Or it could be, subconsciously, I was worried that I would end up as "that crazy cat lady". Of course, there is also the possibility that my timebomb of a biological clock had exploded. Whatever the reason you know how the story goes (if not, you can check it out here) and on February 11th I became a mommy.

From the moment Kio was born I started doing what needed to be done in order to keep him happy, healthy and safe. Through sleepless nights, giving up dairy and cracked nipples, I didn't really take the time to officially think of myself as a mother. Although, there have been a few times where it has hit me in the face like a tonne of bricks (or a fountain of pee). 

I have started back to work one night a week. As such, Thursdays have become daddy and Kio day. I am usually gone no more than four hours, but on a couple of occasions I've had a little extra work to do and stayed out for about six hours. I leave enough milk for an army and Shin bottle feeds the baby while I'm gone.

A little while ago I called Shin after work and I heard Kio screaming into the phone. The little guy had decided that he wasn't going to drink from his bottle and hadn't eaten since I left the house. He (Kio, not Shin) had been crying for hours.

Overcome with guilt, I raced home as fast as I could and opened the door to find both Kio and Shin in a state. I immediately fed the baby and then made Shin one of his favourite meals. As calm was once again restored to the Hirano household it hit me - I am the mommy and only I can do this.

What a terrifying yet wonderful thought.

Kio's little meltdown happened a few days before Mother's Day. So I shouldn't have been surprised (but I was) when the delivery man showed up that Sunday with two bunches of flowers.

Red carnations (the Mother's Day flower of choice in Japan) from Kio for being a good mommy.

And a beautiful potted ajisai (hydrangea) bush from Shin. Also for being a good mommy.

My passport may collect a little more dust between trips. My heels may see a little more of the closet. My late nights may no longer followed by late mornings. I am a mommy now, and I wouldn't change that for anything in the world.