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Confessions of a {good} mom, pt. 2

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Being a mom is the hardest and most exhausting thing I’ve ever done.

Being a mom is the most exciting and amazing thing I’ve ever done.

That is all.

I’m going to take a nap now.

Confessions of a {good} mom

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I wanted to use a proof reading mark, the little carat symbol, to tell myself to insert the word good. I think it’s important to remind myself that I am doing a good job. My child is content and happy and thriving. He smiles and laughs and seems to like my company.

But the content of this post? Well, sometimes it makes me feel guilty or like I’m not normal.

Pajamas are my new best friend.

I’ve wanted to be a mom pretty much my entire life (minus a brief period in my thirties when I realized babies turn into the teenagers in my classes and I didn’t want to live with one of them). My baby cousin was born when I was ten, and I thought it was awesome to take care of him. Also, when I was ten, my aunt gave me one of the lifelike baby dolls. I loved that doll and made my mom take me to the drug store to buy a bottle for Adora Lynn (named for my love of She-ra and my fourth grade teacher).

I didn’t become a mom thinking it was going to be easy. I’m in my forties. . .I knew this would be one of, if not THE, hardest things I’ve ever done. There’s been a lot of chatter about cherishing the days, they go by so fast; you’re never going to feel rested again; comments about how precious these days are and how fun; he’s the most important thing now.

That stuff is in there. But no one told me I’d be bored. Or what to do with those feelings of boredom. Peter is amazing. And I love watching him do new things and figure out that his feet are part of him. But for a while there, I felt like I was twiddling my thumbs and watching paint dry, so to speak. Do all moms feel this way and we’re just afraid to say, hey, this is boring? Am I breaking some kind of mom code to admit it?

Well, if I am, I may as well keep going.

Nap? What?

I want to take a nap that I get to choose when to wake up.

I miss my routine and my habits. They were hard to establish, but so easily they have been broken.

I want to take a shower without having to repeat the mantra “he’s fed, he’s clean, he’s safe” the whole time I’m in there.

I want to wear nice clothes–or just feel like I have time to put something on instead of pajamas. Once you get to noon in your pajamas, what’s the point?

I want people to acknowledge that I’m still important outside of being Peter’s mom. Maybe that’s the biggest one. . .I didn’t cease to exist as an individual with importance and value. Peter is important, but so are me and Steven.

I want to not feel guilty about all of this.

Parenting certainly highlights my tendency to be selfish. I don’t like the selfish side of me.

Blowing Rock, NC

I also don’t think that having all these feelings makes me a bad mom. I don’t think if you’re having any of these feelings you’re a bad mom.

This gig is hard.

I don’t want it any other way.