The Madness of Momming

Oh, the memories.

The marvelous, glorious, wonderous memories.

With my oldest son’s recent birthday, it’s fair to say I’ve been reminiscing a tiny bit.

Especially after rummaging through both of my boys’ baby boxes yesterday afternoon.

Sure, it’s been 15 years since I first became a mom.

But one question still lingers:

How the hell was I ever allowed to leave the hospital with a small, helpless, living human being in the first place?

Did I look like I had any clue as to what I was doing?

If I did, it must’ve explicitly been the pain medication talking.

Would you believe I’d actually packed an Eeyore rattle toy in my hospital bag?

In case my newborn child wanted to play, I reasoned.

Oh, and I’d also brought along a book.

You know, for the downtime following that whole childbirth drama.

Clearly, I was delusional from the very start.

Sure, I’d skimmed through the suggested reading material on pregnancy and babies and all that fun stuff.

But really, how hard could it be?

Right?

Did I mention I had zero experience?

Seriously, not an ounce.

I had no younger siblings.

No younger cousins.

No babysitting experience.

I mean, I worked in a toy store for a brief stint when I was in high school.

But that only served to reinforce the fact that I surely wasn’t a fan of screeching, demanding, whining little monsters.

And so my baby was the first baby I’d ever held.

What was I doing?

How was I expected to be responsible for such a tiny little human being when my ability to take care of myself was likely questionable?

My husband and I were practically kids with a kid, really.

The baby is awake?

Why is he awake?

What am I supposed to do?

Didn’t he just eat?

How much is he supposed to eat?

Is he eating enough?

Is he ever going to stop eating?

Why won’t he sleep?

Why is he still asleep?

Why won’t he go back to sleep?

Is he teething?

Is he hungry?

Why won’t he stop crying?

Does he hate me?

Oh my God. 

My baby hates me.

I’m the worst mommy in the world!

Sniffle, sniffle…sniff.

Oh.

Ewwww!

Oh, I’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

And then I read What to Expect the First Year.

No other book series can make a person feel like such an epic failure so quickly.

Even if the baby was only a mere twelve days old.

If anything, those books made me a nervous wreck.

I was convinced I’d be going through my child’s life as a sleep deprived, anxiety-ridden zombie.

A zombie who’d inevitably make all the worst choices, and ultimately screw up her child’s entire life because of said sleep deprivation.

So I stopped reading.

So what if my baby preferred sleeping in his car seat over using the nice bassinet we’d bought him?

So what if I wasn’t dragging him out on stimulating play dates at three months old?

So what if he liked to shove Mega Blocks in his mouth when nobody was looking?

So what if I secretly hoped he wouldn’t eat all of his of delicious banana baby food so that I could finish it off?

I had relatively little idea of what I was doing.

But I had lots of love.

And patience.

And sheer determination.

We’ve managed to survive, so that’s gotta count for something.

In spite of all the sleepless nights.

I’ve never been one who could thrive on broken sleep.

It makes me scary.

But you know you’d reached a whole new level of exhaustion when you watch Plaza Sesamo halfway through at 2 o’clock in the morning before realizing that it isn’t actually Sesame Street.

And that it was entirely in Spanish.

Huh.

No wonder nothing made sense.

But the good news is a person can eventually adapt to existing in a zombie-like trance.

I do sometimes marvel at how we’ve managed to make it this far in life.

And all things considered, I think we’re all turning out A-OK.

From day one, these boys of mine have been teaching me more than I could ever possibly teach them.

And that’s saying a lot.

Motherhood is the biggest, scariest, most rewarding roller coaster ride of my life.

And I am happy and honored to be on this magically maddening adventure.

Even if it makes me crazier than I already was in the first place.

It’s totally worth it.

~Happy last Friday of the month! Hope you guys all have a terrific weekend!~

That Eeyore rattle in the middle? I honestly wasn't joking when I said I'd packed him in my hospital bag. Yeah. Let that sink in for a moment.

That Eeyore rattle in the middle? I honestly wasn’t joking when I said I’d packed him in my hospital bag. Yeah. Let that sink in for a moment.

32 thoughts on “The Madness of Momming

  1. Love this and don’t feel bad I had years of baby sitting and baby experience before I had my baby lol and I ask those questions to myself st least 7 times a day lmfao it’s different when it’s not someone else’s kid that gets to go home in a few hrs and it doesn’t mater if u screw then up a little cuz their mom and dad will fix them right ?

    I read the first three chapter of what to expect and went nah I got this and never read any further labor is hard lol but tbh labor and pregnancy waaay easier than being a mom :p

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  2. Oh, this really hits home! I’m of the same belief, “as long as I love them enough, it’ll all be okay” mentality. Yep, had my first when I was eighteen…she’s now 48! I’ve made plenty of mistakes, but they never lacked my love! I’m convinced I’ll never totally figure out this Mom stuff. Still learning to this day. Thanks for sharing this with us. 😊

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    • I’m so glad to discover so many other mamas felt the same way! And even better yet, their kids managed to turn out just fine. 😄 Yes, mistakes will be made, in spite of our best efforts and intentions. But love really does go a long way in making up for all those things we have yet to learn… 😊

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  3. My “baby” is about to turn 33. It wouldn’t matter to me if he had grown up to be a bank-robbing serial killer since I was quite certain I’d end up killing all my kids because I was so lost. The best advice I got was “They’ll survive in spite of you.” And they did. They’re all grown up with families of their own and not one has turned into the bank-robbing serial killer I worried about raising. And now I can have all the baby food bananas for myself!

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  4. Ahh this gives me such hope! I’ve never been good with babies. Toddlers and up? Yes. Babies? No. I’m nowhere near being ready to procreate but sometimes I still feel a little twinge of nerves for myself and my future children LOL

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  5. I have no kids, but can relate to being an inexperienced newbie… first time doing any skill a nurse has to perform, buying a house, plunging a toilet, taking care of a dog, and of course, RVing (our motorhome was used and came with an accordion file of useless instruction manuals that I swear came from some other model). Bravo for ignoring the parenting books and dancing to your own tune, an adventure that seems to have worked out for the best. 🙂 PS: What’s wrong with packing an Eeyore rattle? Just kidding, Quirky!

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    • Imagine how boring I might’ve been if I’d read all those useless parenting books! 😜

      Moreover, if I had read those books, I probably also wouldn’t have packed that rattle. But where’s the fun in that? 😝

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  6. If reincarnation exists, I’m coming back as your son next life! 🙂 Based on my personality and humor (that seems to have much in common with yours,) I question whether I may already be your son that accidentally got switched at birth. Then again, there is that one small factor (my 58 years of existence) that might disprove my theory. 😀

    Have a great weekend!

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  7. Ah, baby memories, some of the best kind. I think it is a built-in thing that the majority of folks can figure out -otherwise the human species would have been extinct. just funny to look back and remember all the cringeworthy moments NOW. 🙂

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    • Exactly! I don’t remember finding my lack of natural instinct all that humorous at the time… but now it seems downright hysterical to me. Possibly only because my instincts did eventually kick in and I more or less figured out what I was doing, somewhere along the way. 😝

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  8. This made me laugh! I read a blog by a ftm the other day. She was packing her birth bags for the hospital. She included a rattle in the baby’s bag. 😅 I didn’t say anything about it to her. She’ll have something to look back on and laugh at down the road. 🙂 That first kid is such a trip! But it’s so fun too. 🙂

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  9. Oh my God, Angelica…that’s exactly how I felt when I had my first child. Kids raising kids…how frightening is that. I think all first time parents go through this trial and error phase, trying their best and hoping it will suffice. I still feel like that even now…in fact it’s much worse cause now my kids are teenagers. Great post!

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    • Tell me about it! Having teenagers almost seems more stressful, because the stakes seem so much higher. Just when you breathe a sigh of relief that one difficult stage has past, the next one that awaits ends up being that much more challenging. Now is the time where parents really start to worry if they’re doing a good job of, or doing enough, period, to set their kids up for success in life. The fun never ends. 😄

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