As a new mom, I can’t tell you how much comfort I’ve gotten from having other Mom Friends with kids of a similar age as M.  

Don't get me wrong though, not every mom feels the need to make new friends... But for me, it was either stay indoors and stare at the walls and slowly start to resent being home all day... or get out there, meet people and make the most of these few short years before M goes to school. That's how I am, and recognizing that about myself has made me so much happier as a person and a much better mom. Happy Wife, Happy Life? How about Happy Mommy, Happy Everyone?!?

I have never been a particularly sociable person.  In fact, some would probably have called me downright anti-social.  A mix of of being pretty shy and having a low tolerance for stupid people didn’t exactly make me the life of the party back in the day (yep, I say that now).

I found the early months of motherhood really overwhelming. I felt as though I needed support, so I joined a Mom and Baby class at the local CLSC.  Honestly, I wasn't exactly pumped about leaving the house in the dead of Montreal winter with my three month old in a stroller, and having to take public transit to get there.  Frankly, I was kind of dreading it.  But once I was there, I met a group of mostly first-time moms feeling exactly the same way as I was.  Now here’s where it gets interesting: having M actually made me more sociable.

"What say we get out of these jammies and meet some folks, buddy?"

  

After a few weeks, I suggested we meet outside of the CLSC, and have play dates at each other's homes. And you know what?  Thank god for those moms!!  They helped me through some very stressful and terrifying baby-related situations… and they were going through the exact same things at the exact same time.  Relatable much?

When M was almost a year old, we moved to suburbia to be closer to my mom and dad.  I didn’t know anyone out here, but knew that I needed to connect with other moms again to keep my sanity. I joined a Facebook Mommy Group, and met some awesome moms there as well.  I signed M up for all sorts of different activities and classes, and met some fantastic moms there too.  

Who else are you gonna text in the middle of the night asking “M literally shat himself awake three times, had a nightmare, pinched my boob, told me he didn’t like me, and then asked me to sing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.  Normal?”?  Are you going to text your BFF living out her career dreams in the city, who has no children?  Hell no!   She (or he) would be supportive and try to offer advice, but it's really not the same unless you're living it.  Just like my bestie would never text me to ask for career advice right now... especially since I'm basically a living, breathing definition of Mommy Brain 24/7; so my response would be something like "Uh, try singing, then offer goldfish crackers?".  You’re gonna send that frantic text to your Mom Friend who’s either passed out solid or in her own slightly altered version of your situation.

Another wonderful perk of having Mom Friends is the Play Date.  It’s a great way for kids to interact and play with another kid’s toys if someone other than you hosts.  It helps kids socialize and familiarize themselves with having other kids around.  And most importantly, it’s essential for us moms to interact with other moms.  And use each other as sounding boards.  And vent and rant about motherhood; parenthood; husbands; in-laws; you name it.  And there’s always coffee.  Lots and lots of coffee.  And carbs.  And maybe a token salad:)

If my playdates look like this, remind me to shoot myself

Basically, having Mom Friends has helped me to normalize the completely abnormal world of being a stay at home mom with a now almost three year old boy.  So, to all of my wonderful, gorgeous, kind, caring, hilarious Mommy Friends (you know who you are!): I LOVE YOU, MAMAS!

It was never my intention to become "that mom". I don't think any mother does.
Somewhere along the way I went off-course with the ability to think clearly before reacting.
Guilty! 
Yes, to be perfectly honest I am guilty of yelling at my 2 and a half year old pretty often.
Some days the littlest thing can set me off. I will flip lose my shit.

I have to admit though, PMS has a lot to do with it sometimes but I cant blame it entirely on hormones. Or can I?? C'mon who am I kidding here?! 

I see now that my behaviour has a tremendous impact on my son's ability to control his own emotions. Scary!! It's come back to take a nice big bite in the ass!

Before I became a mom, people used to compliment me on my level of patience - seemed nothing if not very little would get to me and I would rarely lose my nerve. I used to say, "Meh, it's not worth it".
So what changed? Somehow through all the sleep deprivation and many new challenges that come with motherhood, that patient woman I once was seems to have vanished.
I miss her. I really really miss her...

I need to find my patient self again for the sake of my awesome kid.
It will take some time, but I refuse to let D grow up with a mommy who yells at him for the meaningless small stuff. After all, kids are sponges learning life skills every day, all day.
Our support and encouragement go far beyond losing our temper and yelling.
We're sending the wrong message to our kids, poor things are confused enough.
Heck, parents are confused and have no idea what we're doing half the time.
Time to take a deep breath and remember that we all make mistakes, mommies included.

Why yell, we should whisper, it's just creepy. ;)

Do you ever catch yourself overreacting and losing it on your kids?

*** I'm happy to report that after 2 weeks of keeping my yelling in check and managing my level of patience and self control, D is actually starting to listen more with less tantrums. I am pleasantly surprised in both our abilities to change for the better. I see my old self coming back again and it's an amazing feeling. YAY! ***

When I decided that I wanted to have kids, it was a revelation.  I came to a lot of things late in life: university;  a healthy relationship; being an adult.  When I met Hubs, I knew he was the one that I could actually be a grown up with.  And I definitely knew that we'd have kids together.

I thought that once we had our son, I would be a wonderful mom, and becoming one would be easy as pie.  It's what we decided to do: have a child, and I would stay at home with him.  It's what we wanted, so everything was bound to fall into place, right?

Without going into too much detail about the newborn fog, let's just say that becoming a mom has not been as easy a transition as I pretend it's been.  It's been hard.  Really, really, hard.


"I am your new job.  Good luck.  Now buck up and do everything for me for the next five years!"

When M was younger, I would occasionally bring up how difficult I found it.  More people than not, including other moms, just looked at me blankly.  As in: "What's hard about it?".  It would have been inappropriate for me to scream "EVERYTHING!!!", and curl into the fetal position in public, so instead I just kept my mouth shut.

Maybe parenthood and motherhood is like learning to do math.  Some people think "Oh well, that make sense", and just get on and do it.  It's effortless, or at least made to look like it is.  Then there are those of us who have to solve an equation of fractions for the first time, and are like "WHAT????  But I don't get it!  Are you sure this is real?". 

I manage to do everything that my son needs me to do, but for the most part I feel as though I would just barely squeak by with a passing grade - if we're going to keep using the math analogy.  New problems and challenges crop up regularly and I feel as though the learning curve is pretty damn steep.

Part of me mourns my old life, and that makes being a mom hard sometimes too.  I had M when I was thirty six, so I had been living my life as I knew it and the way I wanted to for a very long time.  I left home when I was eighteen, and I had done my own thing for almost twenty years!!!  To say that having M was a reality check for me would be putting it mildly.

One of the best quotes that I've heard about motherhood goes something like this: "His needs trump your wants.  And always will.  And that's what being a mother is, for the rest of your life". And to me, that is 100% without a doubt the very definition of being a mom.  And that is a really hard transition to make for many women, myself included.  I don't think that's a selfish statement - I see it as an honest statement, one that more women need to make if that's how they feel.

There's so much I had no idea about before I became a parent... issues and problems that I couldn't even imagine existed before having a child of my own.  "Hey, some toddlers still won't sleep in past 5AM!  Hey, some kids barely eat enough to maintain the metabolism of an earth worm!  Hey, I'm gonna discipline this little person who just punched me in the face!  Hey, your relationship with your partner will never be the same!"  I really couldn't have imagined any of it until I was actually IN it.  And these are only four of the reasons why being M's mom is hard as fuck sometimes.  It is without a doubt the hardest job I've ever had.

I'm not going to justify my feelings, and try to explain myself any more than I already have.  One of my biggest pet peeves when I read other Mommy Blogs is when moms say: "But it's all worth it.  My love for my child outshines anything else".  Good for you.  Have you read my "Why Are You Not Shutting Up?" post?

 My son D has always been super attached to me. 
So once I stopped breastfeeding after 15 months, I knew I had my work cut out for me when putting him to bed. I was told by my mother I was the same way as a kid. As a baby and toddlet, I needed help falling asleep. Thankfully, I outgrew it ;)

I let D hold my boob to fall asleep after weaning him from Breastfeeding. Why? Because I felt bad - he no longer had what made him feel safe and cozy. 

What the hell was I thinking? Really? I think the lack of sleep played with my brain. Seemed like a great solution at the time.



The holding my boob obsession went on for many many many months.
It had gotten to the point where I was just fed up and wanted it to stop!
Every nap time, bedtime and moments of shyness etc.. my boobs were not my own.
I had turned into The Mommy Lovey. 
I wanted my boobs back! 

I would cringe every time D would reach for my boob, and eventually start pinching and pulling at my nipple like he was getting his favourite balloon ready...You know what I mean!

Finally after many frustrating nap times, bedtimes and every other moment, I gathered my courage to put an end to the boobie grabbing. Of course I tried my best to say NO in a nice way despite my inner cringing. 

I won't lie. When I set out with this plan I gave in quite a few times for the sake of saving my sanity, getting some sleep, and to avoid the screaming and crying, and of course the hitting and kicking due to just being pissed off at mommy because I took his hand off his precious boobie lovey.

Then something happened!
 It went a little something like this;
- D grabs my nipple! grrrr
- No pinching, my love -  Mommy doesn't like to be pinched there - Pinching hurts Mommy.
- You don't want to hurt mommy, right? -
My little white lie. Well, kind of...
I'm glad I said that even though there was nothing painful about it. Well, physically anyway :)
Mentally, YUP definitely.
His concerned expression along with tears let me know there was hope.
It was the first time D actually acknowledged that I simply didn't want this done to me.

MANY tries later!
MANY frustrating conversations on no pinching, D, is FINALLY falling asleep without holding my boob for dear life. And no screaming!
We hold hands now for comfort, which is perfectly fine with me.

Woohoooooo!!!
Mama's got her boobs back!

Does your kiddo have a comfort or sleep association?

When having your first child, everything is new. You're overwhelmed with so many thoughts and feelings. You've read the books and you think you've got it down. I'm good to go, you say. Everything is all good. Until...

You get your first full blown contractions and your doctor tells you this is nothing, just wait...no epidural for you just yet! Hahaha!

You're in full on labour and the pressure is so heavy you feel as if you may be the first woman in history to give birth through your ass hole!

2 hours of pushing later without screaming and you're pretty proud of yourself, however, you spend the better part of 15 hours moaning like a cow in heat, meanwhile your birthing room door is wide open and everyone can hear you.

Your doctor pulls out the forceps and your first instinct is to run. Never going to happen after having had an epidural. Then you realize where those forceps are about to go! Omg! Knock me out!

You legs are spread eagle, beyond exposed, and suddenly the room begins to fill with several nurses and specialists who are all waiting for your next contraction while staring directly at your vajayjay.


You're pretty certain you just had a BM in front of everyone.

Your beautiful baby is born! Yay!

Your doctor begins squeezing and pushing your stomach as if you were a giant tube of toothpaste, meanwhile you're wondering how it's possible you haven't passed out yet.

As you try to catch your breath, the nurse quickly places your new baby on your chest. You're surprised! Thankfully your nurse is quick to realize your about to drop your baby!!!

You're wheeled over to the recovery wing and wonder what happened to the nice pretty room?

Getting up and walking 3 feet to the bathroom feels like Everest. After 3 epidurals you start to wonder if you'll ever stand straight ever again.

You attempt to squat to pee even though your legs feel like noodles and you end up spraying half the bathroom. Nobody ever told you you'd pee like a pressure fountain for the next while.

Your family arrives to visit. And so, the involuntary gas begins. You're letting gas go every 10 mins and nothing about it is silent. No control over bodily functions what so ever!!

You finally get to go home!

Feeling like you must be a superhero after having just pushed out an 8lbs 8oz baby, you forget wheelchairs exist and walk to the car even though your hunched over with what feels like an oversized golf ball between your legs.

You're ready for your first BM.
Nobody ever told you it would be a real wall grabber! After 30 mins of pushing, moaning and abdominal exercises you're getting nowhere and decide to call it quits. However, Mother Nature has other plans for you beyond your control. It seems you should also be wearing a diaper. Crap! Seriously?

• You’ll question your own sanity ninety seven times an hour.
• You’ll wonder if you should really make a bit more coffee, and consume your fifth cup of the day.
• You’ll ask yourself if it’s really worth wiping the urine off your arm, since there will definitely be more in about an hour’s time.
• You won’t be able to fathom how someone three feet tall weighing thirty pounds can possibly have so much energy.
• You’ll wonder how you can get down on the floor and start playing trains and dinosaurs and dogs and cars at 5:45AM.

  

  "Toys, toys, toys, toys, toys and more toys"

• You’ll ask yourself how it’s possible that the same creature that woke up and played at 5:45AM is refusing to nap seven hours later, even though he has literally not stopped moving.
• You’ll wonder how a tiny individual with so much energy can subsist on muffins and milk alone, and refuse to eat anything else of value.
• You’ll be shocked that a wee one who eats a quarter muffin at breakfast can have a bowel movement as big as your own.
• You’ll be puzzled at how your entire schedule will revolve around someone else’s snacks, meals and naps.
• You’ll doubt yourself when you start singing along to the latest truck video obsession on rotation on the laptop.
• You’ll be shocked when you look at the clock and realize it’s only 8:30AM, and there are about eleven hours to go before your "shift" is over.

And then…

• You’ll laugh so hard you’ll wish you’d worn that panty liner after all.
• You’ll realize that you are the funniest person in the world to one little guy.
• You’ll be asked to “Take”, and you’ll smell your son’s sleepy smell.
• You’ll snuggle and read a book about trucks for the fourth time and love it.
• You’ll find yourself breaking into a dance party in your bathrobe just because.
• You’ll check on him before you go to bed, and tuck him in and your heart will swell.
• You’ll get down on your hands and knees and play horsey for much longer than you physically should.
• You’ll share your bagel, your yogurt, your juice and your banana because for once he wants something other than a muffin or milk.
• You’ll learn the names and functions of countless types of vehicles and actually find it interesting.
• You’ll put on a silly pair of glasses, "fix your hair", wear the most ridiculous outfits and act like a mime all at once just to hear him laugh.
• You’ll sleep like the dead and then wake up at 5:45AM the next day and do it all over again BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT MOMS DO.

It occurred to me today, almost as an epiphany as I was making the bed.  I saw that our bed was literally full of sand, both on my side and Hubs's.  Did I wipe it away?  Did I tut "This will not do!"?  Nope, I just said: "Meh", and pulled the comforter over it all to hide it.  I reckon those sheets won't be changed till at least the weekend.

The epiphany is this: My standards are so ridiculously low nowadays that I'm not even sure they qualify as standards.  They're more like ideas that are never quite realized.  I blame my son.

As regards personal hygiene since having a kid, I will say that I do try to make an effort and shower every day.  That's when my two friends Mr. Laptop and Mr. TV come in really handy - I plop M in front of one or the other and take the quickest shower known to man.  When I really go for it and treat myself to a hair washing, there is never time for drying my hair.  Instead, I scrunch that shit with mousse, and have Wet Head all day.  As far as any other major grooming, it's when I remember.  Poor Hubs.

For many months, M has had very little interest in sitting at the table with us to eat a meal.  Like any toddler, really.  Rather than fight it every day, we let him have his muffin at breakfast/ cucumber snack/ smoothie on the go.  And on the floor.  And on the couch.  And on his bed.  It makes me crazy, but I'd rather he eat that way then not at all... so we let him.  And my house is CONSTANTLY covered in crumbs and weird stains.  I should sweep or vacuum at least once a day.  But instead, I'm lucky if it gets done twice a week.  And as regards our couch and loveseat that we bought new two years ago when we moved into this house: Forget It.  Fucking microfiber.

Maybe this is the problem?

One area of the house that I do try and make an effort in is the kitchen.  I try and make homemade meals every night.  The main reason is that I'm a pig and love to eat.  But there are some areas related to food prep where things fall by the wayside as well.  One of my biggest pet peeves is emptying the dish rack.  I will Tetris the crap out of the pots and pans to avoid emptying that thing.  After supper tonight, I put a huge pot back in the fridge with nary a half portion of spaghetti in it.  I could have transferred it to a Tupperware and washed the pot... One more step, I thought.

Stackable!

I know every parent says it, but seriously: I wasn't always like this!  I used to have luxurious showers daily, and groom myself as close to perfection as I could.  Monthly waxing!  Eyebrow shaping!  Clothes shopping!

My house has never been spotless by any stretch of the imagination.  But I would never have ignored blatant piles of filth!  Never!  I would have scrubbed that dirt away as soon as I saw it!  I would have bought or rented a steam cleaner to tackle it all!

I guess one of the main things that's happened since becoming M's mom is that I choose to spend as much time as I possibly can with him throughout the day.  My house could be immaculate, and I could look fantastic every day, and my dishes could be put away... BUT, I would have to take time away from M to do all of that.  I know that there are some moms out there who do manage to do it all, and I'm not too proud to say that I'm extremely jealous of them.

I'm hoping there will be more time for things once M starts school in two years time.  Until then, Hubs should bring the sand toys to bed... God knows that's the only fun going on in there anyway.