I've been a mommy for about 14 months now. I've always wanted it. Dreamed of it.
It's so amazing.
So empowering.
So... brutal.
Not what I expected.
Don't get me wrong. It's amazing (wait, I've already said that). But it really is.
My little girl makes my heart melt, fills it with joy, gratitude and wonder.
She is beautiful.
She is cute and cuddly.
She is LOUD.
She is cute and cuddly.
She is LOUD.
Which brings me to my point. My heart goes out to all the parents who have loud babies. And to those who have colicky babies. Mine was both. She screamed straight through her first 4 months of life. And pretty much through her first year.
When she was born, she was my little miracle. A perfect little angel. Until she cried. Ah... an angel who knew what she wanted. And she wanted to be rocked all the time. Like really hard. Like in the "Is this normal??" kind of way. She hated anything else.
The swing. The crib. The rocking chair. The car seat. (Please, anything but the car seat. I dreaded a car ride more than she did).
My husband and I, we would sometimes see people in the grocery store with sleeping babies in a carrier or in a car seat placed in the shopping cart. And we would marvel. Wondering what that must feel like. Pretty good I bet.
As for us, one of us would stay in the car with our screaming daughter trying all sorts of useless tricks for comforting her (pacifier, singing, shushing etc.). While the other one would quickly grab some stuff of the shelves (mostly frozen things and fruits) find the shortest line, run out like a maniac, get in the car, drive home and resume rocking. And yes, after awhile only one of us went to the store except for the times when we felt brave (and foolish) enough to try again.
Because it might just be different next time.
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