Many Face(t)s of Motherhood

There’s nothing quite like being a stay-at-home mom. No two moms have the same experiences, and yet we all seem to go through the exact same things: struggles with sleeping, wiggly diaper changes, tears for no reason, screaming every time you try to put them down. It just seems like a constant, never-ending battle. And yet we wake up each morning – exhausted because we were up every two hours feeding the baby – ready to do it all over again.

As a first time mom I’m certainly learning all kinds of new things every day. How to take care of  Roly Poly’s needs. How to encourage her to play by herself so I can get some cleaning done. How to carve out a small amount of time to do something that’s just for me. How to stay awake long enough to spend some quality time with BJ. And on top of all of this every day brings new sttuggles.

For example, two weeks ago we discovered mold on the window of Roly Poly’s window. It was covered, and the sill was rotting out. We had no idea it was there because we kept her window covered so it would always be dark in her room for sleeping. Obviously when we found it we moved her crib to our room and washed everything that might have been contaminated by mold spores. Before this, we (sort of) had things down – naps and bedtime were usually pretty painless. But we suddenly had to find a new routine. And now that she’s moved back into her room we are, again, figuring things out again. Even as I type this I’m rocking my sleeping babe because she wouldn’t let me lay her down for a nap.

From the moment I laid eyes on my little girl, and even before that, I knew I would do absolutely anything for her. I would hold her when she cried, protect her from the monster under the bed. I would get up, over and over and over again, in the middle of the night because she’s hungry/scared/needs comfort/crying-for-no-reason-but-to-cry. And I do. Every day.

Being a mommy is everything I dreamed it would be and so much more. More exciting. More exhausting. More rewarding. More frustrating. Pick a word, any word, and it would more than likely fit what I’m feeling about motherhood.



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