As I am waiting and waiting (and waiting) for my name to be called at my OB/GYN appointment (calm down, people, it is only a check-up. I am not pregnant. I repeat, I AM NOT PREGNANT), a little boy, let’s call him Chip, is running around like a mad man. Chip is barefoot. He is flinging medical bandages around the establishment like it is an Olympic sport, and he is yelling as though, perhaps, he has some sort of special message to deliver to the martians up in outer space. All the while, his mother is calmly scrolling through her newsfeed and casually reminding Chip to, “Come here and be quiet.”
And then there are these poor, dumbfounded, about-to-be-first-time mommies with their precious round bellies watching this wild thing run around and they are horrified. Horrified, as though a heavy dose of what-will-be just smacked them right across their sweet little freshly-powdered cheeks.
And I can’t help but sit back in my chair and laugh, and wish I could tell them/comfort them/encourage them:
Yes, in a couple of years, when your child has mastered the art of rolling over and climbing out of hi crib and using his weird little mind to create stories of fire-breathing dragons who eat Doritos for breakfast, this will be your life. Your offspring will have more energy than a doctor’s waiting room can contain, and more spunk than an iPad can entertain. He will act like a crazy person in public. Ohhhh yes. You can say “My kid will never . . . ” all you want, but you’d be better to keep your pretty mouth shut until your child is outside of the womb. My kids were never going to use pacifiers, get screen time, or whine and beg me into submission either. But here we are.
Yes, they will. And yes, you will be tired. Yes, you will be exhausted, and yes, you will run out of answers. All of those Pinterest activities will eventually fail you, and you will succumb to letting them eat pretzel sticks off the dirty floor. And yes, some days it will be really hard to be a momma. In every way.
You’ll breastfeed and it will hurt. You’ll formula feed and you’ll feel guilty. You’ll stay home, you’ll go back work and you will NEVER be quite sure that you’re doing the right thing. You’ll worry about which school to put them in, and have trouble letting go the first time you leave them with a babysitter.
Some days, you will wake up shouting from the mountaintop, “I can’t even!!!!” But you can and you will, because you will love those insane babies of yours in a way you never imagined.
You will love their odd behavior of slurping cereal like a dog, and you will love their silly jokes that lack an actual punchline. You will even love those little, nasty Walmart feet they run around the house with leaving a trail of toys everywhere they go. You will get more joy, more fulfillment, and more strength from your little mini-me than you ever dreamed.
And when those little arms wrap around your neck, ohhhhh my goodness, the whole danged world will feel like it’s at peace. I won’t lie to you, it will be hard, but it will be so undeniably, unbelievably worth it. Every single second. Get ready and enjoy the ride, mommas. Your life is about to get turned upside down and messy and crazy and so, so beautiful.
Get ready. And get lots of rest. It’s going to be hard to come by soon.
Originally posted on the author’s page