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Every time I think I’ve got this mom thing figured out, baby shows me that I don’t. One day I think to myself, I’ve settled into being a mom of a ___-month old and the next minute I realize this isn’t true and I still don’t know what I’m doing.
It can be something as simple as gathering necessary items to accompany us out of the house. It can be me working out my schedule around baby’s needs for feeding, nap, etc. Or it can just be me thinking that baby is just fine doing whatever thing he’s been doing for the last few days or week and then he goes and decides he no longer wants to do that thing, but would rather do something else.
Prime example: I think I’ve got this 6 month old thing figured out, I know that he’s on the teething journey, he’s sitting up, stands and starts to cruise, he naps for a bit at times, and he enjoys watching me work. Then, all of a sudden, he wants to stand, he doesn’t want to play on his mat, he’s not happy about something that I can’t possibly for the life of me figure out.
There went that moment when I thought I had it all worked out, but nope. I’m frustrated, he’s frustrated and we’re both trying to figure out the others needs and I realized, I don’t have any of it figured out.
Baby’s growing and changing every day. I love that. Honest, I do. I love that he is interested in new things. I love that he’s interested in doing more and he wants to be more mobile. I love that he enjoys playing with us. I love that he’s developing new skills and learning so much about himself and the world around him.
Despite all that, I just sometimes wish I had at least part of it figured out. Sometimes I wish that I could have just a few days or weeks of reprieve wherein I’m not trying to figure out yet another parenting aspect. Sometimes I just wish that this parenting thing wasn’t always about juggling multiple puzzles all the time, every single day, ad nauseam.
It’s times like these though when, if I really sit back, I think about how great it is to be part of something as extraordinary as a growing child. It’s times like these when I count my blessings. I have a happy healthy growing child. It’s also times like this, when I know there’s really nothing I’d change about my life. And this is also when I give myself permission to think to myself: Yes, I have a good life, with a smile on my face.
I have a love like no other and I get to experience that every day, no matter how tired, no matter how stressed, no matter that I don’t in fact have it all figured out. What really matters is that I am here and I am present and all the moments really do matter, no matter how frazzled, no matter how un-perfect, no matter, how lonely, how tired, how confused. All the moments matter, because I am here and I’m trying. Every day I’m trying and if something doesn’t work, I just try something else. Every day, I get to look at the perfectionistic, multi-tasking, overachieving mom in the face and say, you made it another day! It wasn’t perfect and you didn’t know what to do, but you did something. And then I feel proud. Proud of myself and pride in my motherhood, no matter how unmastered it is!