My mom’s supposed to come over to hang out with us for a few hours today, so will spend the day messing up what was a clean, relatively organized house. So much fun.
Have you ever heard anyone say stuff like this? If you haven’t, you might live under a rock.
“Babies are pure joy and love.”
“I’ve never felt love like I felt the minute they put my baby in my arms.”
“I felt like I’d always known and loved my baby.”
“I couldn’t imagine my life without my baby.”
IT’S ALL LIES! So many people say such tired, crappy statements like those. Maybe some people actually feel that, but I don’t think it could be more than 2%; the rest are just lying to themselves and the world. When the nurse put my first baby in my arms, I thought, “Holy crap, what have I done? Now I have to take care of this fragile little thing that just poops and cries?” How could I possibly have some instant bond with something like that?
But time passed, we to know each other, and eventually, we bonded. She (well, she and her little sister, who came just 20 months later) grew, and grew, and grew – despite all our desperate pleading with them to do nothing of the sort. They developed personalities and started to play (and FIGHT) together, and talk (and ARGUE), and eat (or NOT), and then… well, all hell has broken loose.
That’s right: K (3yo) has officially stopped taking naps. Unless I drug her, which I totally don’t. Unless you count going on long, smooth drives anytime after 1 p.m., which I totally do. But I digress… sort of.
I’m here to confess.
I love nap time. Some days, I’ve fallen asleep while trying to get K to fall asleep. I’ve tried different places (her bed, my bed, the couch, the floor, etc.), different lighting, different atmospheres (TV on, TV with no sound, TV off)… nothing puts that kid to sleep until night time – and even then, it’s kinda iffy.
Here’s my confession. My moment of zen. My honest mom moment.
The other night (or it may have been during a nap in which she woke me up every few seconds to see something on her iPad – I’ll never tell), I dreamed that I was so frustrated that I spanked her. Aaaaand smacked her.
Geez, I was legitimately frustrated, but I’d never spank or smack ANY kid, much less my own, but in that moment, I felt justified, and then I woke up, horrified at what I’d just fantasized about doing.
You ever think of having kids? Consider my very truthful, honest confession: What a mom really fantasizes about.