I haven’t posted on my blog in a month, and here’s why.
I slept from 1 – 3 p.m. today. I slept then because that was when the baby slept. I didn’t get that long of a break yesterday, so it was a blessing today. And, well, now I’m really glad I took advantage of that opportunity because my son didn’t fall asleep until after midnight tonight.
People who have been there say to appreciate this time, to savor it. They grow so fast; it all goes by so fast. The days are long but the years are short. Yes, I understand this. But the problem is, now I feel guilty for not appreciating it enough. As if I have committed some sin if I feel aggravated at my lack of sleep. Or like I have somehow implicitly stated my lack of love for my child by wishing out loud that I had on makeup or took a shower today. Of course this is as far from the truth as possible. I adore my children but, as others have said, this season of life is tough. It is a freaking grunt march.
I have survived basic training and law school, and I often feel like this – parenthood – is the most challenging obstacle course I’ve ever been through. Sleepless nights I’m never prepared for (really, can’t the baby pencil that in on my calendar ahead of time?), meltdowns I didn’t see coming, multiple doctor’s visits in a day because who else is going to drive them there? And damn it, I still feel guilty.
Today I felt guilty for complaining because I know I have financial means that others only wish for, guilty because I chose to take my son to daycare after originally deciding I’d let him play hooky. Then I felt guilty for being tired because I know moms who don’t get to send one kid off to already paid for daycare when they ‘need a break.’ I also felt guilty for not starting the Bikini Body Mommy workout that I said I’d get into a week ago.
But seriously, it all has to stop. Whatever I did today has to be enough. I am a mom and I get to pat myself on the back for little things right now. So, I choose to take pride in the fact that my children were hugged today (and I was hugged back :). My infant cooed at my smile. My toddler got an immediate bath when an inevitable diaper explosion occurred. Everyone is fed and asleep (except me). And I probably didn’t lose any weight (yeah, didn’t start that workout yet, remember?), but maybe I didn’t gain any, either. I even managed to respond to a few friends on FaceBook, offering moral support via a quick IM where needed.
No, I didn’t write the great American novel today and I may have worn maternity jeans with a hole in them all day, but I have two peacefully sleeping (and mostly clean) little human beings. They are mine, they are safe and I love them. And that should be is good enough.