“There is no such thing as ready… you just jump on the moving train and hope not to die.”- What To Expect When You’re Expecting.

We are hard on ourselves. I will definitely give us that one! We want to do what’s right. We want to do what’s best, but what are the answers? It’s never black and white. It’s filled with ever changing variables. No one has the answer. No one.

Am I the only one overwhelmed by this evident reality; my own mortality? Is it the sleep deprivation or just the fact that I have biologically moved a notch closer? I’ve progressed on the timeline; child has morphed into parent. I now belong to a legacy that for once has not come before me, but will follow behind me. An existence expected to live beyond me.

One day I am going to die.

Not exactly the thoughts I expected motherhood to bring.

Nor did I expect what a terrible “home-maker” I’d be. I took on the role quite literally, with expectation of transforming into some ‘Martha Steward’ type figure. I’ve set myself up for failure.

Cloth nappies remain wrapped in their box. My natural/biodegradable baby wipes and nappies can be best described as “sucking” (but have been great kitchen wipe alternatives… waste not, want not!) My resistance to not conform to the ‘big companies’ has bitten me on my rear. I am officially eating my words. Huggies. is. best. No rashes, no leaks, and perfectly strong, moist wipes. Big corporate nappy heaven. I won’t fight it. They win.

My delicate little flower of a child, however, is a sensitive one. He reacts to anything cheap. He’s obviously got impeccable taste. Chemical free are his only alternatives. Bye-bye cheap baby wash. Hello eco-organic-cool-taxed lotions.

We are so obsessed for an answer, for a reason, for a label. It’s reflux. It’s colic. He’s lactose intolerant. The suggestions don’t stop. All the noise makes me question my own judgement. A judgement I thought never existed within me. Maybe he’s just a baby? Trust yourself.

It wasn’t a hernia, it was just an umbilical granuloma. You’re telling me you never noticed that he always looks to the left? I never noticed. Me, mother, provider… never once noticed. A helmet is threatened. He has an infant torticollis, suspected to be caused by his delivery. He’s developed a slight positional plagiocephaly. We’re booked for physio.

Maybe if I stopped looking at the clock, I may have noticed.

Today I award myself Mother of the Year. There are certainly more trophies to come.

We are hard on ourselves. I will definitely give us that one! We want to do what’s right. We want to do what’s best, but what are the answers? It’s never black and white. It’s filled with ever changing variables. Welcome to motherhood. Your trophy awaits.

“Embrace the glorious mess that you are.” – Elizabeth Gilbert