Ever since I had kids, I’ve felt bad about all of the things I haven’t done for other moms before me. One of the bigger things I’ve definitely missed, besides offering to come live with them so they can nap, is celebrating their mommy milestones with them which are all deserving of hundred dollar bill and champagne showers.
When you have kids, anytime you see anyone (anyone at all), they will ask you how the baby (or in my case, babies) is/are doing.
“How big are they?”
The muscles screaming in my back every time I picked them up say they are big. I know they are breathing, that’s about all my brain can handle right now.
“Are they sleeping through the night yet?”
You might as well be asking me if they are doing algebra.
“Are they eating well?”
In our case, it’s usually “my my, Carter is eating ALL of the food, isnt he?”
Occasionally, you’ll get a “how are YOU doing?” and if it’s a good day, you can usually get out “I’m ok!” without breaking out in tired tears.
No one asks the right questions like,”are you feeling less homicidal today?” or “how do you like your coffee?”
You’ve heard it all before, ‘being a mom is hard’ but no one could have prepared me for how hard it actually is. (Enter everyone’s “just wait” comments).. which I hate by the way. Look, just because they aren’t able to color on the walls or give me the finger and tell me to “GFY” yet doesn’t make two babies having a screaming battle at 2am while I’m averaging 3-4 hours of sleep per night any easier. I was suddenly given these TWO human beings who want to eat 24/7/365, cry when they aren’t eating and blow out diaps on the regular. Out of my entire day, I am able to maybe sit down for an hour in between laundry and bottle cleanings. I’m supposed to know when something is wrong, the difference in their cries and of course, what milestones they should be hitting and when. I guess I could have read the baby books but I didn’t have time to read while I was pregnant due to the amount of time I spent shoving blueberry waffles into my mouth while simultaneously trying not to vomit at every turn. Once I came to the realization that the boys would be here any second and that I should probably, most definitely, read something, it was too late and they were already here. So, I’ve just been winging it ever since, praying that I’m not ruining them yet.
So far, so good. I think.
While I’m accepting the fact that kids just suck, I’m also celebrating every minuscule event that I survive or anything that’s making it seem like we are progressing which is also most likely why I’m not out of maternity clothes yet but, hey, YOLO (or whatever the cool kids say these days).
Woke up for the first time and didn’t want to murder my husband because he didn’t have to get a c-section and doesn’t have to breastfeed on TOP of no sleep, no clothes that fit and RAGING hormones.
Drove past the 95 south exit without thinking about how far down the coast I would be until someone realizes that I’m not coming back.
Lucas was screaming, again, and I didn’t wonder how much I could get for him on Craigslist.
Almost fit my rings back onto my sausage fingers.
Got on the scale and didn’t cry.
Basically, any day that I have made it through alive and without punching anyone in the face (all of them, so far), I’ve found deserving of donuts and wine. I’m rocking my mom bod proudly and celebrating my tiny milestones loudly and you should definitely make sure every mom in your life is doing the same. Side note: If you’re getting her wine, I’m home and accepting donations.
Feeding time is approaching so I guess I should go mentally prepare for the chaos that is twin meal time. Wish me luck.