So. It’s been a while.
That little dude up there was born back in August and has eaten up the majority of my time, which I’m not complaining about. He’s actually a lot of fun to be around.
Even when he gets upset, pouts his lower lip, then cries out, then pouts again, he makes me laugh. (Don’t worry, I console him/give him food/change his diaper/etc.)
But those first four weeks were especially rough. Sleep deprivation is a form of torture. This I can attest to. As can any parent. Or really anyone who has experienced any form of sleep deprivation.
There’s other stuff too. So much other stuff. The physical and mental stuff that is still muddled up in my brain and I’m trying to sort through.
I had a good grasp of who I was before the little guy made his appearance, but now I’m still trying to feel like I’m his “mom.” Because in all honesty, I don’t feel like a mom. I don’t know what that feeling is supposed to be.
Am I one of his primary caretakers? Yes I am. Do I love him with every fiber of my being? Yes I do; from here to eternity and back. Would I do anything for his health and well being? Yes, yes and 100% yes.
But am I a mom? I don’t know how to answer that yet.
The archaic image of a mother staying at home, raising children, cooking, cleaning, and being the perfect housewife keeps popping up in my head recently when I think of the word “mom” and how to define it.
This makes me cringe. Like nails on a chalkboard.
I do very little of any of those. Except for cleaning because dust, grime, and dirt are worse than actually cleaning.
I thought I would cry when I went back to work because I would be upset and sad to leave him. But I didn’t cry. In fact, it was actually good to get out of the house, come into the city, and talk to adults again about work stuff.
So for now I’m still trying to figure out this whole “mom” thing as I wince at the word when it is directed at me. Maybe when my little dude utters those words himself it will be different and he’ll melt my heart.
Until then, hi and hello. I’m back. Still sleep deprived, but able to drink copious amounts of coffee, and for that I’m eternally thankful.