Motherhood is full of good intentions.
Yes. I fully intended to breast feed. 100%. Then my body betrayed me and my milk dried up after two weeks. Poof. Gone. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to cherish every precious moment with my newborn. Then she woke up every two hours through the night her first 13 months of life. THIRTEEN MONTHS. I was an exhausted, full-time working mombie surviving only on a magic elixir of hopes, dreams, adrenaline, and caffeine. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to baby led wean. Then my irrational fear of choking took over and baby puréed food was all the rage in our house. Every day. All day. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be actively engaged. Then life is all jumbled up with 40 hour work weeks, yard work, house work, 6pm daycare pickups, and 7:30pm bedtimes. #SingleMomLife. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be calm. Then my very persistent child asks me the same question five to six times (or more, God help me) despite the fact I already answered; the first time. Every day. All day. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be patient. Then, for example, it takes my girl 128 hours to pick out a pair of shoes for the day… while I shout, “WE HAVE TO GOOOOOOO!!” Every day. All day. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to speak gently. Then when my daughter is ungrateful for her many, many blessings my anxiety induced anger takes over and I start screaming. You know… lecturing about how great she has it… starving kids in Africa… and all that jazz. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be motherly. Then my ever-independent pint sized “grown up” insists on doing everything for herself; by herself; her way. Ever since she turned two she wants sooooo badly to be a grown up. Every day. All day. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be understanding. Then my sweet girl spills her entire cup of water all over the restaurant floor because she refuses to believe me that the flimsy plastic lid is not a handle. Yes. I resentfully cleaned up the mess as I calmly reminded her, “See? Honey, this is WHY Mommy always tells you to hold the cup by the sides. Make sense? Okay. Good.” God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be present and in the moment. Then my tiny movie connoisseur asks to watch the same Disney movie for the eleventy tenth million time in a row (yes, I did make up that ridiculous number)… or… she takes 1800 hours to eat a single meal… so I bury myself in my head, my phone, or a magazine. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be kind. Then my head strong little one argues with me over every single little thing (did I say EVERY THING, because. Yeah. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g) and I feel defeated when I yell, “STOP ARGUING WITH ME!! You. are. FOUR!!!!” Every day. All day. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to be fun. Then I find myself telling her NO more times than I say YES. I mean, does a child really need a popsicle, icee, candy, snow cone, cookies, AND ice cream in one day? If you asked my daughter she would say yes; most definitely. Yes. She non-stop requests one or all of these. Every day. All day. But to her dismay Mommy limits sweets to one per day; if that. God laughed.
Yes. I fully intended to maintain my personal identity (outside of being Mommy). Then instead I threw everything I had into my only child. Every day. All day. So now, I’m attempting to carve out more me-time for self-care in hopes this helps me meet more of my aforementioned intentions. God laughed. And. God smiled.
Yes. God laughs. I too laugh… other times… I cry.
With all of this said (or perhaps confessed), I must be doing something right.
No. I never intended to be perfect. Even with all of my shortcomings, I am my daughter’s most favorite person in the entire world. I fear that may not remain the case as she grows, if I don’t learn to loosen the reigns and lighten up a bit. God smiled.
My daughter sings more than she talks and she dances, skips, twirls, and runs more than she walks. Every day. All day. I read someplace that a singing child is a happy child. I pray this is true. God smiled.
My child loves IMMENSELY!! She is known for her generous outpouring of hugs; multiple hugs in succession as a matter of fact. No amount of hugs is ever enough. She cannot finish a meal, a movie or TV show, brushing her teeth, going potty, or really any task for that matter, without stopping multiple times to ask for “huggies & kissies.” Every day. All day. God smiled.
We laugh, we talk, we play, we cuddle, and we love. Also, we cry, we argue, we yell, we disagree, and we pout. I must remind myself… Life is all about balance. A little of this. And. A little of that. The good, the bad, and the ugly. God smiled.
I love and cherish my daughter more than words can express. There is no intention in my love for her; it just is and always will be. Every day. All day. God smiled.
© Renae Rossman and Candy Coated Reality