Pre-motherhood, I had all these visions in my head of what my life would look like with children in it. I'd be the "cool" mom. The one who got her body back right away...the one whose kid was dressed in an adorable outfit every single day...the mom who had it all together...the one who juggled work, husband, child,
life with seemingly no difficulty. Little did I know that, for the first 6-8 months of motherhood, my life would be pretty much the exact opposite of my naive little vision. But then it got better.
So much better. And easier. And more fun. I figured it out and, while I may not be the "perfect" mom that I envisioned before actually having kids, I think that what I am works. Being a mom is an incredible thing. It's scary and nerve-wracking and all-consuming and downright
lovely at times.
Being a mom looks like...
...fatigue. There's tired, then there's exhausted, then there's I-have-a-baby-and-have-been-up-since-2am-changing-diapers-and-feeding-and-rocking-and-patting-and-I'm-unable-to-function-in-normal-society. Back in college, all-nighters were no big deal. Sometimes, I even felt "cool" if I stayed up all night. I bragged about my "adventures" while drinking my coffee and then clocked in a full day of work and/or classes. Rinse and repeat...it was a breeze. But nothing...
nothing...could have prepared me for the sheer exhaustion of having a baby. Bailey didn't sleep more than 4 hours a night until she was 10 months old, and even then she only gave us 5. 6 max. She's still not a great sleeper (last night she fought sleep until after 11). Never have I been more tired than those first few months with her. Gerry, even though he's an awesome sleeper now, was up pretty much every hour throughout the night for the first few weeks. It's lonely and draining, but it
does get better.
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| Caffeine...every mother's BFF |
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...worry. Almost constant worry.
Am I feeding her too much? Am I feeding her enough? Will I ruin her life and kill all her brain cells if I stop breastfeeding? Will I turn him into a mama's boy if I breastfeed for too long? Is my kid as smart as other kids her age? As outgoing? As funny? On par developmentally? I feel motherhood is a constant cycle of worry, worry, worry. I'm always second-guessing myself when it comes to my kids. Really, all they need is love, guidance, and praise...but there's always that little worried voice nagging in the back of my mind:
Am I doing this right?
...constant companionship. Bailey was born 3 years ago and I haven't had a moment to myself since. 99% of the time, I love it. I remember when she was an itty bitty baby, I used to tote her around with me everywhere. To the grocery store, to Starbucks, to the library, the mall. I
loved having her with me, and I felt a special kind of pride whenever I went out with her. As she got older, she still came with me everywhere, although more often than not it was because she cried so hard whenever I attempted to sneak away that I caved pretty much immediately and packed her up to tag along with me. Same thing with Gerry after he was born. I used to wear him in my Moby wrap and he came everywhere with me, and I liked it that way. My kids are my life, two of my very favorite people in this world, and I
enjoy spending all of my time with them. But there are some times where, much as you love them, you just want to lock your darling children in another room just to get a few minutes alone. I love my children...but I haven't gone to the bathroom alone in more than 3 years. Seriously. One of them is
always there. I love having a little buddy, though. Not necessarily while I'm showering--but just about every other time.
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| True story |
...fewer (and quicker) showers. The first few weeks after Bailey was born, I could not get my act together. My emotions were all over the place and I bounced around between feelings of elation (look at this beautiful creature I created!), fear (holy shit, she's awake again...don't make eye contact, DON'T MAKE EYE CONTACT!), and supreme fatigue. I was so busy in mommy mode that there were quite a few days when I looked down at myself at 3 in the afternoon and realized that, not only was I still in my pajamas, but I also hadn't brushed my hair...and, OMG, is that
spit up on my shirt?! The first few weeks (hell, the first few
months) of motherhood are so overwhelming and you're so focused on meeting the needs of your baby that it's easy to overlook the basic care for yourself.
...a juggling act. A mom wears SO many hats...wife, mother, nurse, cook, disciplinarian, employee. It's hard, sometimes, to keep up with everything and it's easy to feel like you're not good enough to be able to do it all.
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| You got this, mom! |
...a messy house. I was never the neatest person to begin with. But since having kids? All semblance of order and tidiness went straight out the window. Kids are messy, there's no getting around it, but that's not really why my house is never pristine. It's because I don't
want to waste my time deep-cleaning and organizing every room in my house when I could be spending that time with my children. The other day, I had a load of laundry sitting out waiting to be folded, a sink full of dishes to be washed, and the bathroom was in
serious need of a good cleaning. In the middle of my scurrying around, I hear Bailey ask me in her tiny little voice, "Mama? Want to build a tower with me?" And my first instinct was to put her off, to tell her I'd come and build a tower with her after I finished all my cleaning. Instead, I abandoned the laundry and the dishes and chose to overlook my messy bathroom, and I sat down and I built tower after tower and castle after castle with my daughter. And I had a blast. Turns out she's a pretty good tower-builder. And she thinks I'm pretty awesome, too. She stopped mid-tower a few times, looked at me and said, "I love you, Mommy. You're my best friend ever!" and my heart melted. See what I would have missed out on if I'd opted to spend my time cleaning rather than with her?
...unconditional love, endless giggles, and a happiness you never knew you could have. In between all those sleepless nights, the worry, the tantrums, and the mess is the most incredible feeling of awe. Awe at the teeny little person you created, awe at all of the amazing things they can do, awe that you could ever love someone so much or feel so much pride in another human being. It makes everything else simply disappear.
