Mom-ming (Verb) – The act of being a Mother.
No, there’s not a secret manual that’s handed out to mothers on the way out of the hospital. We’re not born with a how-to guide uploaded to our brains, ready to be accessed upon bringing baby home. There’s not a secret society of women that gather for “how to be the perfect Mom” classes, that Dad’s are just left out of.
Eight months into this blissful journey and i’m still learning, wondering if i’m doing everything right. Still working on getting into a sleep schedule. And still covered in some sort of substance (poop, spit up, baby food) on a daily basis. At the same time, being a Mom feels like an instinct. An instinct mixed with worry, fear, anxiety, and pure happy elation.
Worry – That those weird red splotches on my baby are some sort of life threatening rash that may need to be address immediately by the Center For Disease Control. The short answer, no. It’s just eczema and nothing a little Aveeno couldn’t handle.
Fear – That you will never sleep again. Update: Still not sleeping through the night:( But holding that little bundle in my arms at 1am in those footie pajamas is pure bliss.
Anxiety – From sleep deprivation. Enough said.
Pure Happy Elation – That you made a PERSON. The world was right, this is the kind of love that continues to grow with each day.
Welcome to Perfection Not Guaranteed. I’m an average Mom and sometimes stay in my PJ’s all day.