Well friends, as we like to say around here, this has been quite the “rufferee” of a few weeks. (Did you also beg your significant other to let you buy that pet costume during this past fall at Target? And did you never buy it but start using the term “rufferee” all the time? Me too!)
|Poor Millie, she never gets to wear Halloween costumes! All pictures by Hannah Elise|
Aida has been super fussy and we’ve had trouble getting her to fall asleep. She’ll doze off in our arms, but once you lay her down on her back, she gets LICK and all hell breaks loose. (“Lick,” meaning angry, another connotation invented by our household. Origin unknown.) Acid reflux was the culprit, and it seems to be getting a little better, with some baby Zantac and less dairy in my diet.
Motherhood is tough. I criticize myself on a daily basis when I feel like I’m not “productive,”–especially when it comes to putting together blog posts (I’ve been working on this one for two weeks). It certainly doesn’t help when I read posts from another blogger, bragging about putting her baby on a “schedule” and sounding downright condescending towards moms who may not shower everyday, or wear something besides yoga pants. (Not showering everyday and wearing yoga pants was my life before baby, so why should that change?) Everyone around me tells me I’m doing a great job, everyone except one person, and I guess I should tell her to shut it and get to steppin’ (that person is the demon voice in my head–read all about it in Amy Poehler’s book).
And yet, just the other day, as I walked circles in the living room trying to soothe a fussy baby, I thought to myself, “we’re just having a bad day,” and without another thought I immediately corrected myself–no, this is not a bad day. Yes, sometimes this girl lets loose a pterodactyl cry that could wake the neighborhood. Yes, sometimes she wants to nurse all the time and I have to convince myself all over again to continue breastfeeding. But does that really make it a bad day? Even when we’re having a tough time, we’ll work things out, and maybe thirty minutes later she’ll curl up into me, look up at my face with those beautiful eyes, and give me a great, big smile that makes my heart so full.
So, this is motherhood for me right now. Feeling exhausted and totally at the end of my rope one minute, then so full of joy and wondering how I ever deserved such a gift the next. I wouldn’t change a thing.