The routine is pretty much the same for everyone when it comes to their first pregnancy: positive pregnancy test, excitement, panic (just me?), read all of the books, study ALL THE BABY PRODUCTS and register for only the best of the best. Then, for most of us, baby is born. After you’re sure you’re a pro with said precious newborn, you have to take them home. Somehow, you survive the first night without a nurse, and you realize maybe you AREN’T a pro…then more panic ensues.
Fast forward one year. Two. More, if you’re a more seasoned parent than myself…now, think about every time your baby had a fever. Each sleepless night you endured. Toddler threw every single food item on the floor…every meal…for a week. Tantrum in Target? Botched vacation plans, or a horrible vacation experience in general? Had to miss 3 days of work because strep hit daycare like the plague? I’m with you, sister. I’ve even had days where I thought…I’m just not cut out for this. I can’t do it. {Again, panic…why is my life so full of panic?? Because babies.}
Maybe it’s because I was pushing 30. Maybe it was because I was madly in love with my husband, and somehow convinced we were going to be the best parents on the planet. Maybe it’s because I had dreamed of being a mom for years. Whatever the reason, we had babies. Two bouncing baby boys, 18 months apart (currently 2 years old and 6 months), and here lately I’ve found myself crying on far too many occasions: what in the crap was I thinking?
Sure, we are surviving. We might be walking zombies most of the time, but we are all fed, clean and dressed most days (okay fine, we are fed, the rest are hit or miss). I’ll take the honest route here with you because I can’t possibly be the only mom who has sometimes felt the guilt of thinking…maybe I should’ve waited longer. Maybe I wasn’t as ready as I thought. Then, I pull myself together and say, “is anyone ever REALLY ready?”
I wing it 70% of the time, no matter how many parenting articles I’ve read on what “should” work. When I feel discouraged that we can’t go to eat in restaurants like normal humans because my toddler’s mood changes quicker than Oklahoma weather, I tell myself relax mama, he’s only 2. When I cry in frustration that we are going to have another 3 am party with baby bro, I often laugh and think when they’re teenagers, I can’t wait to use an air horn to get them out of bed at 7 am.
So when it’s been a long day of tantrums and non stop drama, I do what any normal mom would do to decompress: watch trashy TV and eat all of the hidden cookies. Sometimes I ugly cry. However, I know tomorrow we will start over with a clean slate, and do it all again. At the end of those long days, I might regret a lot of things that happened (or didn’t–looking at you, mountain of laundry), but having my boys is never one of those regrets.
Maybe I wasn’t ready. Maybe I never would have been, but you never know until you try, right? I fail miserably sometimes, and in full disclosure, I think the biggest failure comes in knowing that maybe I’m just not a “natural” at this mom game. But, I just tighten my ponytail, pick up the toys and thank sweet baby Jesus that my kids are cute…and that I at least never have a dull moment.