First of all, I truly believe there are no stupid questions in life. If you are sincere, you’re in the clear.
When you ask me if I love being a Mommy, I don’t know what to say. It’s like asking if I love the sun. Of course I love the sun; it’s warm, it’s beautiful, I need it to survive. But it also gives me sunburn if I’m around it too long and dries up all my plants.
Admittedly, anyone who has ever asked me this does not have kids. Maybe they are scouting out the terrain? I remember hoping it was a lot like having a cat.
One of my greatest fears about becoming a mom was losing myself. I worried that all of a sudden I would be out on this little island alone, mumbling to myself about diaper rash and breast milk. I worried that my friends would abandon me, my husband would lose interest, and that I’d stop doing all the things I love. Fortunately the opposite has happened. Friends have rallied around me, Austin has been a superhero, and while I obviously have a lot less “me” time–I still manage to occasionally enjoy myself. Like right now, for example. There he lays in the dry sink, vacuum blaring beside him, sleeping like an angel. That spot on the carpet is going to be very, very clean.
Another question I’m often asked is if he is a good baby.
You know, I joke a lot about this little meatball, but I do honestly love him like none other. He is so handsome (his saving grace) and I never regret having him or being with him all day. Despite his loud shriekings, he has some pretty great qualities too. But he is not a “good baby.” He is very needy, does not sleep through the night, and has the tendency to spit up in my hair. But of course I don’t want to say any of this. Especially if I haven’t seen you since high school and we only have a few minutes to chat. And really, what am I supposed to say? No, he’s a bad baby? The poor guy doesn’t know his own hand from a space alien, so I don’t think he’s doing any of it on purpose.
I was reading an article on NPR this morning about parenthood and I think they got it right when they said “Having a baby is not just a fabulous, enriching experience that opens up your capacity for love and endless opportunities for personal growth. It’s also miserably hard work. A baby is like the worst houseguest ever: endlessly demanding, keeping you up at all hours, needing to be fed and making a mess of the whole place. ”
Thank goodness they’re cute.