Motherhood: I Don’t Think This Job Gets Any Easier
Who can forget the brutal sleep deprived initiation into parenthood? My first few days home with a newborn were filled with zombie walks around the house and awakening to drooling on the couch with a seven pound little body perched on my shoulder. I survived by stepping over laundry that had given up on being folded, take out and my mama’s greatly appreciated covered dishes. If you were like me there were times when you thought, ‘Will it ever get any better?’ and low and behold – it did. Well, sort of. In my younger mommy days I used to tell myself that this motherhood-thing would get easier once we got past certain stages. First it was walking. Only to realize that once they started walking I had to stop them from getting into stuff. Then I said well perhaps it will get better when they learn to feed themselves. But that was when I had to learn how to retrieve food, with the precision of a surgeon, out of the crevices of high chairs. When my oldest became a tween she could do her own hair, iron her clothes and wake herself up for school. But again I learned that independence came with a price, namely developing hormones and an attitude connected to a smart mouth in much the same way elbows bend when it’s time to eat. Then one day it finally dawned on me, ‘This motherhood thing is not hardly getting any easier!’ It took me a while to understand, mainly because no one ever had the decency to tell me that in motherhood you only trade in one parenting challenge for another. Though if they would have told me I am sure I would have had only a mild understanding, in much the same way that a mom to be thinks labor pains are a little rougher than menstrual cramps. As much as I call on my mama today for advice, help and friendship I am not looking for adulthood to provide much motherhood relief either. Even still I have found an upside. At least now I can sleep through the night.