Me - The Unnatural Mother

Every once in a while I wonder if I am really cut out for motherhood. I know that I do the best that I can, but I sometimes wonder if it is not enough. I see these mothers that seem to have it all together - mothers with perfect budgets; those who have clean homes and freshly cooked meals; those who manage to squeeze in one activity after another and still wear a beautiful smile at the end of the day; those that seamlessly manage to parent a rambunctious toddler while pregnant with number two.

Maybe those women put on a facade of perfection, but I don't think so. Some women really are superhuman and can do just about anything where their children are concerned.

Since becoming a mother, I've had moments where I felt certain things came naturally. For instance, nurturing a child is, perhaps, the most natural thing a woman could do (in my opinion). While breastfeeding was a challenge at the start, I cherished those quiet minutes I shared with Esther and it felt so right to hold her close and nourish her in the way I knew how.

It also comes natural for women to want the best for their children, to do everything in their power to ensure their safety and well being. My head is constantly spinning with thoughts of all the "what-ifs" that plague mothers and I am constantly mulling over ways I can protect Esther from it all.

Still, I am beginning to think that "natural" parenting is a gift more than an inherited trait.

On nights like tonight, where Esther is fussy and hard to please, I get to wishing I had the natural parent gift, or at least some magic word to use that would bring peace to my house. I wish I could be like a couple friends of mine who make motherhood look so easy that they would put June Cleaver to shame.

Instead, I feel like an ever-expanding whale who falls apart every time her daughter cries or falls down. Yes, that is me - the pregnant bride of Frankenstein who works double-time to be the best mommy I can be.

The bottom line is that I love my daughter, but I get frustrated and stressed at the end of a busy day.

I spend my entire morning and afternoon imagining the picture perfect evening: I pick up my daughter who is so happy to see me that she literally skips to the car and happily climbs into her car seat (which, coincidentally, she's miraculously able to buckle on her own, no fussing or tears). We head home on a very peaceful drive, where she's singing and chatting in the backseat and I'm humming happy-go-lucky hippy songs in the front. Once at home, I lovingly pull out the dinner that I made the night before, pop it in the oven to warm, and enjoy playtime with her father and her. After our meal, that everyone happened to enjoy, we fall into our perfectly scheduled routine that leads us to an easy, glorious bed time. We read her a book, give her a bottle, brush her teeth, and kiss her goodnight. And, viola!, she's fast a sleep until morning.

What a dream!

One that is so easily shattered by reality.

This is how it really goes:

I pick up my daughter, who is very happy to see me, but not so happy to leave her Nana's house. I walk her outside, something she enjoys doing, and then fight to get her into her seat. She cries the entire drive home. Dinner was barely a thought in my head that morning, but is suddenly something that desperately needs to be made and eaten before ten that evening. I come in the door and want nothing more than to crash on the couch for five minutes, but the dogs are going crazy, my daughter is teetering between content and unhappy, and my husband has to shower. So I try my best to figure out how to balance it all and cook dinner, but I end up waiting the half hour it takes my husband to finish so that he can either watch the baby or help me cook. We struggle throughout the rest of the evening, wondering why Esther has suddenly decided that solid food is disgusting and how she can be the happiest child anyone has seen until it comes time for bed.

Due to the insanity of bedtime mixed with the insanity that comes with being an unnatural mother, I have come to rely heavily on my husband to assist with putting her to bed each night. Having weaned due to pregnancy, I've instead taken to making her nighttime bottle and feeding her in the rocking chair. My husband then takes over and spends the next hour wrestling the world's strongest baby into her crib. And then the screaming commences. Fortunately, at that point, she tires easily and all it takes is a few reassuring pats from my husband to calm her.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting in our room with my head between my knees crying over the great expectations that had been violently thrown out the window.

When it's all said and done and she's finally asleep, I relax, exhausted husband by my side, a warm cup of hot cocoa in my hands, and a brainless TV show playing quietly in front of me.

And I smile, because I realize, when the house is silent, how much I love my daughter and all the chaos she brings. I realize that there is not a single thing I would change - be it our insane schedule of events or the passion my daughter shows in everything she does.

When I lay my head down in the evening and fade into sleep, the dream begins again and I hope that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be different. I'll wake up and find myself perfectly fitting into the mold of mommy.

But, then again, perfection always was overrated.

Lessons Learned...

I am learning that I am still fairly naive when it comes to a lot of things, espcially parenting and pregnancy.

Here is what I thought:

1. my second pregnancy would be easier than my first
2. having a child already would make pregnancy go quicker and ease any symptoms I might have
3. by 1 year of age, my daughter would morph into this sleeping angel that loves having her own bed each night
4. that the terrible twos actually hit at two years, not 11 months
5. that my daughter would not grow up before my eyes
6. walking would not start until at least a year and, when it did, she wouldn't be the holy terror everyone warned me about

And here is what I have learned:

1. second pregnancies are not easier - in fact, I'm finding that I had forgotten what the first half felt like and I'm freaking out about every little thing once more (hello, self, you've been here before!). I'm also finding that my uterus, while bigger than it was, still stretches and that my morning sickness is not fading as quickly as I would have liked.
2. having a baby to chase around does not make this pregnancy go any faster and does not help me ignore the common discomforts. If anything, it makes it all the more amplified because, not only am I aching with normal things, I'm aching from all the running, bending, and lifting I have to do now.
3. my daughter has no plans of morphing into a sleeping angel. She would much rather scream all night and fight sleep, successfully ruining any chances for a decent night of rest for her parents. But, I have to say, that I still love her beyond all words.
4. the terrible twos are just an estimate. It can hit whenever your kid chooses. In our case, she decided to start early, so I'm hoping she gets past it a little early. Of course, knowing our daughter, that's not likely to happen!
5. Reality check: my daughter turns 1 in less than a month. This was made even more real when her birthday supplies arrived in the mail this week. I can't believe my little girl is growing up so fast! And it seems like yesterday that I was holding her for the first time...
6. walking starts whenever a baby decides it is time and, almost instantly, they become holy terrors - and walking head injuries! My God, my girl hits her head more than I would like!

And, thus, I am daily being schooled by life, pregnancy, and my child and I couldn't be more grateful! Because, while I have to learn the hard way, I wouldn't change a thing!

The time is now...

I looked outside today and saw the changing colors and the sweet smelling autumn rain and wondered how another year of my life has managed to slip by me. Here I am, a week shy of 27, and I still feel so unaccomplished in my existence.

I want more. I want to write full time while working from home so I can be with my children. I want to travel and do mission work. I want to be the type of superwoman who can conquer anything.

But right now I am still me and I am not so sure that the average "me" is really who I want to be anymore.

Through all the changes that have taken place over the past year, the addition of our beautiful daughter and the conception of our second child, my husband and I concluded that it is time to truly live what we believe.

We want to raise our children in an environment of "doing" rather than one of just "dreaming."

So now is the time.

Now we are finally coming to a place where we are examining who we are and what we can do to live differently. We are looking at our age and saying, "we can't wait another 20 years to do what we have always dreamed of doing and to do the things God has called us to do. We just have to do it. We just have to have the faith." So now we spread our arms, close our eyes, and jump.

It will scary. It will mean sailing on uncharted waters. And it will result in the biggest adventure of our lives.

And I can't wait.