For those of you who don't know me personally, my name is April, and I've been married for 5 years to my husband, Jeffrey. We live in North Carolina. And we are polar opposites. He's lived in the same spot his whole life, I moved upwards of 30 times, between 4 states. He's an only child, I have 5 brothers and sisters. He is a patient, roll with it person, I am organized and scheduled. Somehow, we just fit together.
I like to think our daughter is the best of both of us; she's funny and joyful like her daddy, independent and determined like me. She also inherited my stubborn streak, which works nicely with the "don't rush me" gene from her dad. It started the day she was born via C-Section after 54 hours of labor...she was going no where until she was good and ready and it's been that way ever since!
There are a million reasons why I love being a mom. At the top of my list are those times when my daughter does something cute, and it hits me all over again, "Wow, that's OUR kid! I'm a mom!" And there are many days I question if I'm really qualified to parent this tiny tornado. Shouldn't this job come with some training? No where in the parenting books does it say your toddler might go through a phase where she will remove her diaper just so she can pee on the floor....and I know what you're thinking, but trust me, potty training is still far off in this house. In a optimistic attempt, we bought a plastic potty that so far has only been used as a hat. Laugh if you must, but she rocked it.
When L was born, I thought I had to be super mom, and it nearly broke me apart. I am very open about discussing my severe postpartum depression; I threw myself into being "perfect mommy/wife" to avoid the upheaval that was going on in my head. Just days after bringing our daughter home, I turned on the news to the tragedy of the Sandy Hook shooting, and I just fell apart. What kind of world had I brought my daughter into? It was the first time I realized her life and safety would never be 100% under my control. It sent me into a tail spin of depression and anxiety. Being "perfect mommy", I put on a brave face for my husband, and waited until he left us alone for the day, when I could collapse next to my daughter and spend the day crying in between feedings and diaper changes. I had no help those first days home which only compounded the problem. My daughter refused to nurse, preferring the ease of the bottle since her mouth was not big enough to latch on, so I spent hours pumping milk, thinking about how I had failed her in every way. A premature birth, second rate nursing, a mom in shambles. My poor kid didn't stand a chance.
At my six week check up, I put on a smile,,,until the doctor asked me how I was feeling. Let's just say it all came out in an incomprehensible blubber of sobs. She wrote a prescription and sent me on my way. Almost immediately, I felt the fog lift, and I was able to tell my husband exactly how I had been feeling. Turns out, I hadn't been hiding it that well.
Today, I still struggle to keep my super mom alter ego in check. Sure, she can cook, and her house is spotless, but I get to read "Llama, Llama Mad at Mama!" 4 times, I get to drink imaginary tea, and search for frogs. At bed time, while Super Mom wants to clean the kitchen, I get bed time kisses!!! Super mom likes her classical music, but I get to listen to the Frozen CD...just because the snowman song makes my daughter giggle. And when the house is finally quiet, and super mom still has a "to do" list, I get to snuggle up next to my husband and silently give a prayer of thanks to God for the blessing that is being this imperfect person with so much love in my life!!! :)
I like to think our daughter is the best of both of us; she's funny and joyful like her daddy, independent and determined like me. She also inherited my stubborn streak, which works nicely with the "don't rush me" gene from her dad. It started the day she was born via C-Section after 54 hours of labor...she was going no where until she was good and ready and it's been that way ever since!
There are a million reasons why I love being a mom. At the top of my list are those times when my daughter does something cute, and it hits me all over again, "Wow, that's OUR kid! I'm a mom!" And there are many days I question if I'm really qualified to parent this tiny tornado. Shouldn't this job come with some training? No where in the parenting books does it say your toddler might go through a phase where she will remove her diaper just so she can pee on the floor....and I know what you're thinking, but trust me, potty training is still far off in this house. In a optimistic attempt, we bought a plastic potty that so far has only been used as a hat. Laugh if you must, but she rocked it.
When L was born, I thought I had to be super mom, and it nearly broke me apart. I am very open about discussing my severe postpartum depression; I threw myself into being "perfect mommy/wife" to avoid the upheaval that was going on in my head. Just days after bringing our daughter home, I turned on the news to the tragedy of the Sandy Hook shooting, and I just fell apart. What kind of world had I brought my daughter into? It was the first time I realized her life and safety would never be 100% under my control. It sent me into a tail spin of depression and anxiety. Being "perfect mommy", I put on a brave face for my husband, and waited until he left us alone for the day, when I could collapse next to my daughter and spend the day crying in between feedings and diaper changes. I had no help those first days home which only compounded the problem. My daughter refused to nurse, preferring the ease of the bottle since her mouth was not big enough to latch on, so I spent hours pumping milk, thinking about how I had failed her in every way. A premature birth, second rate nursing, a mom in shambles. My poor kid didn't stand a chance.
At my six week check up, I put on a smile,,,until the doctor asked me how I was feeling. Let's just say it all came out in an incomprehensible blubber of sobs. She wrote a prescription and sent me on my way. Almost immediately, I felt the fog lift, and I was able to tell my husband exactly how I had been feeling. Turns out, I hadn't been hiding it that well.
Today, I still struggle to keep my super mom alter ego in check. Sure, she can cook, and her house is spotless, but I get to read "Llama, Llama Mad at Mama!" 4 times, I get to drink imaginary tea, and search for frogs. At bed time, while Super Mom wants to clean the kitchen, I get bed time kisses!!! Super mom likes her classical music, but I get to listen to the Frozen CD...just because the snowman song makes my daughter giggle. And when the house is finally quiet, and super mom still has a "to do" list, I get to snuggle up next to my husband and silently give a prayer of thanks to God for the blessing that is being this imperfect person with so much love in my life!!! :)
Love this April...
ReplyDeleteWhy, thank you! I've wanted to do this for a little while, gives me a place to express myself.
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