To be continued . . .

Monday, December 29, 2008

I promise to continue my usual non-maternal ways, but I'm currently belly-up plopped in the middle of torn-open packages and cookie crumbs.
I surely will rise out of this peppermint stupor, but it will take time (and maybe just one more nibble on this black forest cookie).
Santa was good to me - too good - and now I must return to reality {oh, the horror!}.
More to come next week.

Disclaimer II

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Maybe this isn’t a disclaimer, but I want to include the following thoughts before I begin whining and groaning about the sometimes dark-side of motherhood.
In many ways our non-maternal instincts are simply derivative of our maternal instincts. When the little guy screams bloody murder in the middle of the grocery store, we experience such humiliation and frustration because it’s our kid. When it’s someone else’s kid, we continue pushing our cart and sifting through coupons. But when it’s our own flesh and blood, we usually have a less-than-tolerant reaction. You know what I’m talking about: we either jump ship leaving the cart, groceries and all, smack dab in the middle of aisle seven as we drag our toddler out of the store by half of his arm, or we continue shopping as if we had the grocery store all to ourselves only to bust open a bottle of wine the minute we get home in the hopes that a few swigs will diminish any memory of the scene caused by our little monster and witnessed by hundreds of innocent grocery shoppers.
Yes, our non-maternal instincts are very much maternal, but rather than taking ownership of my crazy-mom-in-aisle-seven moments, I’ll just call them non-maternal and pray that tomorrow offers the chance for my maternal instinct to shine.

Disclaimer I

Saturday, October 11, 2008

I should start off by making one thing very clear – I love being a mom. I am in month seven of motherhood, and honestly and truly it has been the best 6+ months of my life.
But as much as I love my son and motherhood, it ain’t all blankets and booties. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t give myself this pep talk, “okay, I can do this, I don’t know how, but I can do this.” Yet in the same breathe I thank God everyday for my precious little man.
So here I go. Genuinely, whole-heartedly, painfully, frankly, truthfully, tenderly and sometimes heartbreakingly, spilling my tales of motherhood no matter how ugly it gets. The good news, I won’t be doing it alone. The big man upstairs will always be on my side.