There are so many things people tell you when you are about to become a mother. That you’re on your way to unconditional love that you’ve never experienced before. That you’ll never sleep again. That life is over as you knew it before. That it goes so fast. All of these are true. But there are so many things nobody tells you.
Nobody told me that I would still be this overwhelmed 3 years later. They say it gets easier. Sure, some things do, but every day is my own personal battle. Am I doing this right? Will I ever do this right?
Nobody told me that having a conversation with a toddler could bring me the joy that it does. How when I ask Charlotte if she had a lollipop today and she looks at me and says “I sure did!” or when I’m asking her to help me with something and she responds with “oh sure mommy! I be right there!” that I would smile and laugh at her for the simplest sentences.
Nobody told me that saying no to a kid is so, so hard. I really thought it would be easy to say no and set boundaries. But when Charlotte is asking for ice cream before dinner and starting to scream and I am tired from a 12 hour work day, saying yes is so much easier. And nobody told me the guilt that would come from this. I couldn’t fall asleep the other night because I am petrified that I am raising an entitled brat who gets whatever she wants. Over ice cream. Nobody told me what a head case I’d become.
Nobody told me how sometimes every day feels like a constant repeat of the day before. How it feels like you are on a merry go round, seeing and doing the same things and never getting off the ride. How sometimes the moments are so difficult that you think this stage of life lasts forever.
Nobody told me how unprepared I would be for a second baby. I guess nobody could tell me this, because nobody knew what a difficult child Charlotte was going to be. But I am so not ready, and I feel like I am behind everyone else because everyone else is ready. It is such a difficult feeling. I do want another baby, just not yet. And everyone else has already added to their families and I feel like I’m doing something wrong. Do you SEE what a head case I’ve become?
Nobody told me how sometimes when I think of Charlotte I cry. Not because I am exhausted and defeated, which to be honest, is most of the time. But because I really do love her so much. And even though there are billions of people in the world, I’m responsible for raising this one. And even though I have no clue if I’m raising her right, most of the time I feel like I am. She’s funny as hell, she has manners (most of the time) and she says “I luh you” 650 times a day. That’s got to count for something, right?