-Sleep is both overrated and an absolute necessity. Some of my most delicious mommy-moments happened at 3am as my infant snuggled into my neck or my 10-month old gave me the sleepy bed-head grin. While I have been able to survive on considerably less sleep than expected, there are days I crash into bed, eyes closing, at 8pm after chasing a speedy crawler all day.
-Breast feeding is not as easy as I anticipated. Period.
-All those baby clothes may be adorable, but nothing beats play-time in a diaper. For Barrett, not me.
-I'm a push-over. Like many moms I've talked to, I caved and did the things I said I'd never do. Quit breast feeding before a year? Big fat check. Sugar before his first birthday? Cupcakes, check. Cake, check. Cookies, check, check, check. Buy him obscene amounts of gifts for Christmas? Sigh...check. An hour or two of Barney on a bad teething day? Check. Using my iPhone to keep an antsy toddler quiet at a restaurant? Check. Several times check. Using my Facebook page as my own personal shrine to Barrett? A disgusting check.
-Accepting help is a must. I used to think that I'd be saving time and effort for those who offered a helping hand. I might've been able to pull off that theory without a kiddo, but now? Ha! Bring on the meals, free babysitting, and an occasional house-cleaning! If someone offers the help, it's likely that you need it!
-I can take the same picture of my 2-month old laying on a blanket 15 different times and I will savor EVERY. SINGLE. PICTURE. I pity the fools who have to look at each picture and find something new to "ooooh and ahhh" over to appease this crazed mother.
-I am a pack mule. I can carry an insane amount of weight in extreme weather conditions. One purse, one diaper bag, a couple bags of groceries, a stroller, and one wiggling baby in the driving rain or sweltering heat.
-My favorite music has been replaced by an endless soundtrack of Barney, Bible, and nursery songs. I told myself I'd be the "cool mom" who'd be above it. I hear the crumb-cruncher songs in the car, on tv, and in my head. This type of torture could get the most hardened criminals to crack.
-I'm absolutely living the dream. Sure, there are days the dream involves me unshowered with a messy house, little patience for my whining grumpus, an unwalked dog, and a trip to Target just to get out of said messy house. But most days the dream looks like hugs and kisses from a chubby-cheeked boy as he drives his truck around the living room floor and my heart is full from such a simple, yet beautiful life.
