I’m finding myself lowering down off of my pompous high horse every day. I’m definitely one to hold other parents in contempt for their parenting ideas. I’m finding empathy for things. I’m realizing why people move to bottle feeding. Take away my devotion or knowledge of natural healthy eating and Isaac would have a bottle in his mouth asap. He’s no fun to nurse right now and he takes forever. I always thought having a drugless delivery would be so easy and only wimpy people chose drugs. I couldn’t have one with Silas so I tried with Isaac and I’ll never do that again. I’m as weak as anyone else and I completely lost it and asked for drugs but it was too late. I’ll never do that again, it was the worst pain in the world. I never thought I would have a kid who hit but here I am with a child who hits. I never even thought I could come close to empathizing with people who’ve had abortions but I understood once I got pregnant with Isaac. I still think it’s wrong but I understand because I know what it’s like to be terrified. I empathize with child abusers. They’re sick sick people but really I’m a few loose screws away from being one myself some days. Good thing those few screws are in tight. I can empathize with people who were once against spanking and now do it and I can also empathize with people who believe in it. Goodness do I want to spank some days. Thank GOD for those tight screws. Because I’m a mother I know what it’s like to be self conscious of my body. I never had a reason to. Perky breasts, not one stretch mark, skinny body. Having babies took that all away from me. I wish I didn’t buy into the American ideal beauty image. My glorious marriage isn’t unshakable. My libido is definitely tame-able. I’m not a great mother every day. Heck, some days I’m not even a good mother. Becoming a mother has humbled me quite a bit. I’m glad I know more empathy. Not so sure that I can be glad about my body but perhaps one day I’ll embrace it, or have the money to fix it.
In conclusion, being a mother is freaking hard. I’m finding it especially hard with two even though my case is easier than most. I’m tired of judging people, of feeling judged, and especially tired of people feeling like this whole thing is a competition. I don’t care if your kid has more teeth or is heavier, lighter, or recites the ten commandments at three months. I’m just proud of my kids for being who they are. I guess that’s where a mother can once again find some pride.