Tomorrow my kid will be six months old. A lot has happened in the two months since my last mom post, and I still haven’t read any parenting books. This, however, does not mean I haven’t googled the crap out of a whole slew of things over the past 8 weeks or so. We have entered the realm of teething, building attachments and relationships, giving kisses, and solid foods. My baby is becoming a little person with opinions! Loud ones – like her momma.
A friend of mine said recently that being a parent is basically just “saving your kid’s life everyday, over and over.” Oh hey, I saved you from rolling off the couch. Oh hey, I saved you from choking on that small object. Oh hey, I saved you from slipping in the bathtub and swallowing a bunch of bath water. Oh hey, I saved you from getting your little chubby leg caught in the bars of your crib FIVE times last night. You know. The usual. The weight of the reality that I am in CHARGE OF A LIFE has set in. Therefore, when I got a massage this last week, my therapist said “your muscles are not happy.”
THEY ARE NOT HAPPY.
I sleep like a pretzel half the night. I carry around a 20 lb baby as much as I possibly can because I feel guilty I am away from her all day during the week. I tense up at the very thought of handing her something like a banana to just experiment with (baby-led weaning is NOT for me because I can’t deal with the stress of it, so rice cereal and purees it is!). And let’s not even talk about what happens when she gets a cold and I have to suck the snot out of her nose while she writhes like I am inflicting some kind of medieval torture on her (and yes moms out there, I DO have a nose frida because you all went cra-zay on me on Instagram when you saw an old school nose blub, for realz, calm down) — and then when she can breath again, gives me a HUGE smile. She is an expert at cry-laughing. And so am I. Life is all about the cry-laugh these days.
So, what have I learned, a half year into being the parent to the most amazing kid ever? Pretty much that I COULD be a basket case of anxiety at all times if I allowed myself to be. I want, badly, to be the cool, calm, and collected mother that can go with the flow and not worry about every toy that is handed my child because something might come off it and kill her instantly (yes, that is how my brain works). I hope that I, at the very least, “appear” to be somewhat calm. When I am with her, and she is cuddling into me like a big ol’ love puddle, I feel more clam than I can even express. But then…dun dun dun, life happens. And I don’t have control of everything. And I have to let go. I am learning. I am trying.
We are starting daycare for the first time next week. Please please bless me that I don’t go into cardiac arrest. Please.
Also, she gets more amazing every day. She can sit up now. She wobbles a bit and I watch her like a hawk so that she doesn’t fall over and kill herself (there I go again). And she gives you the best, open mouth, slobbery, amazing kisses while she grabs your head, and sometimes pulls your hair. That means she REALLY loves you. It is like she is saying, ‘Hey momma, thanks for saving my life everyday.” 😉
Happy half birthday, little bird. ❤