Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Practice Makes For Lessened Fears

Okay, so, um... yeah.  I've been wondering lately what on earth God was thinking making me a mother.  I mean, I'm kind of selfish.  Not in the "needs to grow up" way, but in the "I like my own time and money to spend on myself" sort of way that many adults I know do.  And I'm that non-mother who totally judges other parents in public.  For the record I am that person who kids flock to, and I generally find them adorable.  But if your kid is tearing apart a store or restaurant while you ignore it (and the child) completely I reserve the right to judge and stare.  Don't even get me started on parents who I see verbally abusing a small child...that calls for me weighing the option of prisons.  And I worried that a baby screaming, either upset or in joy, would make me jump out of my skin.

But yesterday I spent the afternoon at my friend's in-home daycare (that's the most professional in-home daycare I've ever's upper age is run more like an awesome wonder the parents don't seem to want their kids to age out).  I spent my time in the baby room with 4 babies all under 1.  I was in freakin' heaven!  I played with the babies.  I changed the babies (including one with snap cloth diapers).  I fed a baby who is at the stage where she doesn't want to take the bottle, but I got her to drink over 3/4 of it.  At one point I had one baby in my arms and I reached down and scooped up another who spent the afternoon playing "escape artist." 

And there was screaming.  One in particular did not like being woken up, so she clung close and just bawled.  And then when I went to change her she just cried harder.  But, we got it done and suddenly she was all about smiling at me every time she saw me.  And there was plenty of joyful screaming as well.  Not a bit fazed me in the least.  I told my friend, "I think this is reassuring me I won't suck as a mom."  She just laughed and asked why on earth I had been thinking that... she's seen me with her 2 year old who thinks I'm the best thing since sliced bread. 

I'm learning that I don't have to be super mom to be a good mom.  I'm not a bad pregnant woman simply because I've chosen this period to spend a bit of money and time on myself.  And I still have doubts.  I've not gained much weight and I realized today that my pants are once again a bit loose so I'm panicking a bit.  And I've already realized the guilt after a sip of wine as my once very scientific mind begins to worry I've screwed my kid up even though I know it's not really possible no matter what the mommy-police like to say.  But overall I think, "I can do this.  I'm going to rock as a mama." 

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