Being a mom is really hard.
There isn’t one day that goes by that I don’t think this job is the toughest I’ve ever had. Of course I am in the trenches right now with a 1 year old and 2 year old so the daily challenges are very fresh in my mind. However, I feel like I am often meeting moms who are a little, or a lot, further along in their motherhood adventure, and I get the impression that I am alone in my feelings. These moms make it seem like their baby always slept through the night and they never tolerated outbursts in Target from a strong-willed toddler.
I don’t think that these moms are trying to make me feel bad (at least I hope not). I think they just really don’t remember. They don’t remember the past struggles of mommy-hood because they may be in the throes of some new, different challenges, or they may be suffering from what I like to call mom-nesia.
Mom-nesia being the condition that helps us forget all of the really hard parts of motherhood and allowing us to only remember the good. I am sure that one day I may be a sufferer of mom-nesia, but I am going to let this post serve as my reminder to not tell the sleep-deprived new mommy how wonderful my babies always slept. When I meet that desperate mommy, here is what I hope to remember:
I hope I remember calling my own mom in tears when my first-born was just a few months old and she wouldn’t let me put her down. All. Day.
I hope I remember my two year old’s epic tantrums when I accidentally gave her the wrong colored plate or cut her banana incorrectly.
I hope I remember that breastfeeding really hurts and it’s not all that “natural”. Also pumping sucks.
I hope I remember letting my daughter wear a tutu every single day because: #pickyourbattles. Am I right?!
I hope I remember feeling completely and utterly helpless when my kids were sick.
I hope I remember how horrible teething is. Period.
I hope I remember how fast toddlers can get into trouble….like the time I left the room for one second and came back to my daughter sitting on her newborn sister’s head.
I hope I remember taking turns riding in the backseat between two car seats to keep the baby from screaming and the toddler from waking up the baby who was not yet screaming.
I hope I remember the feeling of being excluded from an event because: “no kids allowed”.
I hope I remember the times I forgot to hit “send” on a message because: sleep deprivation.
I hope I remember the challenge of getting two kids into car seats during a heat wave while people waited impatiently to pull into the spot next to us.
I hope I remember how many times I had to say the word “share” each day. (500 approximately)
I hope I remember that parenting makes marriage even harder and that it’s normal to consider punching your snoring husband in the face in the middle of the night.
I hope I remember that kids are really messy. Like really, really messy.
I hope I remember the embarrassment of watching my daughter push her friend on the playground.
I hope I remember breaking down in tears the night before I was leaving my babies for the first time for a much-needed weekend away. (And I hope I remember that it was the best thing for all of us and I should do it more often).
I hope I remember how I felt like I was completely screwing up this whole parenthood thing daily.
I hope I remember that no matter how long my day was, when my kids were sleeping peacefully I would miss them.
Mostly, I hope we all will try our best to remember, or at least pretend to remember, for the sake of that new mom, because what she really needs is a whole lot of encouragement and a bucket full of grace.