Archive of ‘Mama Bear tales’ category

When Reality and New Mommyhood Collide.

So you have a new baby. You have a new baby and you’re thrilled. And exhausted. And head over heels in love. And exhausted. And giddy with joy.  And exhausted.

But mostly you’re just determined to be the very best mommy you can be. Come hell or high water, coffee-less mornings or gassy, vomiting babies, you. Will. Rock. This.

That’s great.  Really, it is.

tori in the jungle

Welcome to the jungle…err, Motherhood.

But you know what? There are going to be times when you feel like you don’t rock. Moments when you wonder what the hell you were thinking when you threw away those birth control pills. Days when you’re pretty sure that you suck at being a mom.

You might not be as wild about breastfeeding as you think you should be.

You might not be as patient as you think you should be.

Your house might be messier than you think it should be.

Your life might be way less organized than you thought it would be.

You might feel more conflicted about your about your decision to work or stay at home than you thought you would be.

You might cry. Or yell. Or completely lose your mind.

You might let your daughter watch an episode of Sesame Street so you can zone out for a little bit. Or force your son cry it out when you just can’t take it anymore.

And that might feel unforgivable.

But you know what? It’s okay. All of it. Because here’s the secret: you don’t have to be perfect.

Or even close. You just don’t.

Because, and here’s the other secret—no one is. No one’s perfect. And anyone who tries to tell you she is? Has her head so far up her butt she doesn’t know what the sun looks like anymore.

So throw out those parenting books. Lower your expectations. And just relax.

You can do this. You will do this. It won’t always be fun, but it will be worth it. I promise.

Mama’s Losin’ It

Baby Weight.

Today, I’m thrilled to bring you a guest post by my friend Erin of Reluctant Momma. If you don’t already know all about her fabulous blog, you should, so rush over there and visit. Just not before you read her post here.

After giving birth to my first son, the thing that shocked me the most about motherhood, other than the fact that “golf ball” sized blood clots are considered “normal” was the realization that for the rest of my life I was responsible for another human being.

I could leave the room, the state or the planet, but I would still be someone’s Mommy.  The weight of it was incredible.

The sleepless nights were nothing compared to the constant feeling of anxiety.  The feeling that something could happen to this precious little lump and there was not a damn thing I could do about it.

I know now that it was one part hormones and two parts post-partum depression. But even now, six years later, as my Monster Monkey heads out the door to school, or to play, or even as he sleeps, that thought tugs at my mind.

I remember sitting in my living room a few months after giving birth.  I had just taken my son upstairs and put him to bed in his crib.  I returned with the video monitor and adjusted it in my lap.  I watched my son lay in his crib, silently sleeping.  He was motionless except for a twitch here and there.   I looked up at my mother-in-law who was sitting in the living room with me and asked, “When do you stop worrying if they are breathing?”

She looked over at the sofa, where my love, her firstborn sat sleeping with his head against a pillow, exhausted from his long day.

She smiled at me and in a soft voice replied, “Should be any day now.”