Reflections on Momhood

I'm not nearly as organized this time around.  When it was just Madeline, I knew where each toy was.  At the end of the day each item was returned to its rightful home.  Not so much this time around.  Although I do know that my purse is currently under the dining room table with a pillow from the living room, books and a water bottle.  Farmer Jed is currently playing "hide and seek" with Sonja Lee under Madeline's dresser....they've been there for at least a week.  And coloring pages are scattered all over the basement floor.

Most days I question if I'm spending enough quality time with each of the girls.  I don't read to Madeline as often as I used to.  Am I reading to Audrey enough?  Should we be in more structured activities?  Should we have less on our schedule?  Am I spending enough one-on-one time with them?  Do we watch too much tv?  What milestones should Audrey be reaching this month? It's a constant battle of self-doubt. And editorial note: tonight at small group we talked about loving your neighbor as yourself.  And the question was raised: do we always love ourselves?  This pending blog paragraph came to mind.  

I frequently hear, "but, Mommy, I need you to PLAY with me".  You know 'cause I'm making supper, doing the dishes, doing the laundry, feeding Audrey, changing a diaper, or some other seemingly important task.  Sometimes I need that reminder.  She just wants to play.

Audrey is very happy sitting up, but dislikes her tummy....so at almost 9 months she's still not crawling.  I try not to worry about this and deep down I know it's fine.  In fact, it's probably a blessing.  She's happily choosing to remain stationary.  But I still worry.  I'm the mom.  Isn't worrying part of the job?

It takes a really long time to get two girls ready and out of the house.  More than once I've had both girls dressed and ready to go, only to realize that I forgot to feed Audrey.  Oops.

I'm very glad that I'm staying home.  If I was still working, I'm sure I'd be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

There is something totally intoxicating about the smell of a baby's breath.  And pink lotion after bath.  And that sleepy moment when they lay their head on your shoulder and snuggle up.

I think I could become a professional baby cheek muncher.  I could kiss those chubby cheeks for hours.

I had forgotten some of the small blissful details of having a baby in the house.  And some of the not-so-blissful ones, too.

On the slow mornings when getting out of the house fully clothed feels like a major victory, I'm thankful for the kindness of strangers.  Like the elderly lady at HyVee who looked at me, paused, looked at my shopping cart full of groceries and my two girls and said, "It's the hardest thing in the world and you're doing a great job."

I almost cried right there in the middle of the produce aisle.