Ever find yourself as a parent not being able to wait for naptime to roll around? Staring at the clock what seems like every 10 minutes, thinking about all you want to get done (or not get done) while the kids are asleep. Longing for some quiet time. Some time to just sit…and stare at the wall while you recuperate from the nonstop chaos you just managed to make it through? Just me? Nah, I can’t be the only one!
When I was younger, when everyone else was dreaming up what they wanted to be when they grew up, I was dreaming of being a mama. I never had a passion to be anything else. I tried, though. I remember when I was a preteen, I made myself believe I wanted to be a lawyer. I have no idea where I came up with that. I think it was more because it sounded like a good career that one is “supposed” to go for? Who knows.
Senior year of high school, when you’re supposed to be figuring out what colleges you want to apply to and what you “want to be when you grow up,” I was still wandering aimlessly. Still had no clue. I took some aptitude test that said I should go for interior design? Pfftt! I don’t have a creative bone in my body, I’ll tell ya that much. So that was a big fat nope!
Started college, and I can honestly say, I only went to college because that’s what you’re “supposed” to do after you graduate high school. I had no desire to. Still didn’t have a career path I felt passionate about. This resulted in me taking class after class, changing major after major, starting and stopping, and now having over 130 credit hours, yet no bachelors degree! (And a bunch of super cool student loan debt to show for it, too.)
At age 33, I had my first kid. A new chapter of my life. The best chapter thus far! For me, being a mama is the best thing I’ve ever done. It’s what I had been wishing for all along. It has made me the happiest and most fulfilled I’ve ever been in my life. They are the air I breathe!
There are some days…ok, who am I kidding, most days…where about 2 hours after they wake up in the morning, I am done! A just turned 3-year-old and an almost 1 and a half-year-old. Two little Tasmanian devils who destroy their playroom and the rest of the house in a matter of minutes. And, my two are what I’ve heard to be described as “velcro babies” – meaning they follow me around like little baby ducks anywhere and everywhere I go. I must be in their sight and they must be literally all over me at most seconds of the day. (I’m pretty sure I’m considered a human jungle gym in their eyes.) Both have been this way since birth. If I get up to walk away, they both get right up with me and follow me. In all honesty, I think it’s cute – my little baby ducks. But man, can a mama get a minute to go…ahem… “drop off the other kids at the pool”… ALONE PLEASE!
Same goes for bedtime clock watching. Bedtime for them is around 7 pm. By about 5 pm I’m ready! Let’s get this dinner down your throats, get your butts washed in the bath, and get you two in the bed! Ready, BREAK!
Out of all the studying and recon I did while I was pregnant with my first, ya know, to prepare myself to be the perfect mother I always knew I would be (pfftt! boy, was that a rude awakening), none of it told me how mentally draining it would be. Or how “touched out” one could get. Or maybe I wasn’t reading the right material, ha! And then I went and threw another mini human into the mix. Eek! Fun stuff!
But here’s the ironic part. I love those little crazies so darn much, that about 30 minutes after they’ve gone to sleep, I miss the hell out of them, and can’t wait for them to wake back up.
Every. Single. Day.