Life as I know it

I, like every other woman I know, have recently read an article called Your Children Want You. I loved it. I know I don’t have children, only a child, and I also know he isn’t old enough to care about any of my imperfections yet but I still appreciated this article very much. I unfortunately compare myself to others far too often. I think things like, wow so and so has 3 kids and her house is always perfect or so and so always looks so amazing and I barely managed a ponytail. There are days when I don’t get dressed, I know my hair is a mess, I don’t accomplish one thing besides caring for Elijah and by the end of the day I’m spent. There is more than likely a load of laundry in the wash and one in the dryer, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded, the floor could use a good vacuuming, the dust is building up and I accomplished nothing. I think to myself. Why did I do nothing all day? How do all the other women do so much? Why can’t I be a “SUPERMOM” too.

And here is the big secret, I shouldn’t admit it but I am going to anyways. I judged other women before I became a mother. Oh my goodness, so and so is feeding her kids ice cream before dinner and so and so kids always have a dirty face. Luckily I never judged how the mother looked. And in all honesty I still catch myself judging others but I’m trying hard not to. Before I had kids, I knew I was going to be an awesome mom. Hello, I’ve had tons of practice with all the kids I have babysat and all of my nieces and nephews. I read a lot of parenting books, I know/knew what the experts had said, dangit, I was ready. Then Elijah came! He was unlike any baby I had taken care of. He was inconsolable. He was a hard baby……but craziest of all, he was mine. He was given to me and Brent to take care of. Holy Hannah, we had a kid. And when he was screaming and inconsolable, he was ours to take care of. There was no handing him back to another set of parents. Sheesh, it was hard business and he was a hard baby.

Lucky for us now, he was become a lot more delightful. He still has a very strong will but we can handle it. I’ll probably never be a supermom, but what I will be is the best mother I know how to be for my son and all other future little Adamson babies. I will love them with all my being. I will play with them, teach them, and even keep their little faces clean J. And hopefully between all of this I will be able to keep on top of the laundry, we’ll at least have enough clean dishes to eat off of, the car will at least have enough space to sit in and maybe just maybe the floors will get vacuumed. I’m glad I’m coming to the realization that my baby wants me not my supermom neighbor. He doesn’t care if I have lots of extra fluff, he only cares that I am healthy and can play with him.

And on that note, I don’t care if I’m extra fluffy either. Because as long as I’m healthy enough to play with Elijah that is all that matters. I’m next to positive that Heavenly Father won’t have me step on a scale before letting me enter the Celestial Kingdom. And that is my goal, because I can’t stand the thought of not spending eternity with Brent and Elijah. I’d be too sad without them. So I’m going to be me. The best version I know how to be.

And if I find the time to do some supermom stuff, I will. But if not, you’ll find me on the floor with my sweet son soaking in all the smiles and laughs I can, because as I’ve been told a million times, they don’t stay small forever. And if people come over I won’t apologize because I didn’t have time to dust or whatever, I’ll welcome them in and hope they aren’t judging me or comparing me. But if they are, I hope it makes them feel good about what kind of parent they are.

I’ve been blessed! I know that I have. I’m grateful for it every day. Motherhood is the hardest role I’ve taken on yet. Being responsible for another person is an amazing calling. It causes a lot of extra stress. I’m way more tired which leads to grumpiness which leads to tears. I have a husband that loves me even when by the time he gets home for the day, I haven’t gotten dressed, I’ve accomplished nothing, dinner is burnt, the baby is crying, I am crying, and the apartment is less than presentable. How could I ask for more.