mommyhood – Page 3 – Angel Wheeler

Adventures in Parenting a.k.a Grody Things

It’s the day after Mother’s Day. The chocolates have been eaten, the flowers are wilting, and all the mothers around the world are back to cooking suppers and cleaning up messes, don’t forget the never-ending messes. Yes, throw me into that lot as well as it has been a doozy of a day with the mess o’ meter going full throttle here. It’s needle is all the way to the right, the red light is blinking rapidly and horns are blaring. This is the house of a toddler.

Through the messes and the accidents that have occurred just today, I have come to the very profound conclusion tonight, that my sweet girl will not make it in the medical profession. I’m writing it down in case I forget to tell her when she’s taking anatomy and filling out admission papers to some high falutin’ medical school 9,000 miles away. Not that I care whether she is a doctor or a nurse or a street-walker, I’d love her all the same.

I don’t know, I could be wrong, I’ve been known to be. So let me lay it out for you and you can understand where I’m coming from. For starters, this morning she had a bit of a mucous problem, putting it nicely. At one point, she smeared her shirt sleeve along her nose, as all kids do, and well, “stuff” ended up on her sleeve. I was rushing for the kleenex and she sat in the chair, looking at it, rubbing it on the chair, and gagging.

What? 2 year-olds gag at grody things? Two year olds ARE grody things, how can they differentiate?

Later in the day I got a splinter. We’d been outside playing and who knows what I did, but I somehow got one of those tiny, annoying, yet painful splinters in my thumb. We came inside and she followed me to the bathroom. The instant I pulled out the tweezers and went to work, she began to cry and protest and tell me she doesn’t like that. Then she ran off crying.

Then somehow later in the day, I scratched my arm pretty good. By what or how, I do not know. I’m as bad as a kid myself. It’s the kind of scratch like the end of a pipe cleaner would leave. A wire scratch. Once again EK started crying and protesting how she doesn’t like my scratch and exited the room.

Then tonight, when it’s supposed to be winding down time, and a mom should be able to put up her feet and drink a glass of wine, a really big mess happened. To save my daughter’s dignity in case she reads this when she’s twelve, I won’t go into details. Let me just say in order to get the point across, it involves the bathroom, bleach, a mop, and a mother’s love to clean it up. It was a case of bad timing on Ek’s part that left her in tears and the bathroom with a lot of sights and smells.

I’d just returned from taking out the trash and returned to a wailing toddler in the bathroom. I go into mother-drive and begin the cleaning process which involves cleaning the toddler as well. The whole time I’m cleaning, she is sitting on the potty and gagging. I thought she was going to vomit, her gagging got so bad. I had to hand her a trashcan so I wouldn’t have that to deal with as well, but fortunately she got it under control after about a minute. And I got every thing else under control about 30 minutes later.

This is definitely not a learned behavior. No one gags here. No one cries and runs off at the sight of a boo-boo. Unless there’s a lot of blood, and in that case, I have a tendency to almost pass out, but that was a long time ago and a whole different blog post.

So she cries and runs off at the sight of a scratch and tweezers, and gags violently at the sight and smell of bodily functions, I seriously think performing open heart surgery or a colonoscopy is out of the question for her. At age two anyway. Perhaps she’ll outgrow it and go on to deal with lots of grody things in stride. But for now, it’s a little bit comical watching her react this way. Well it would be comical if it wasn’t so grody and I wasn’t the one having to clean it up. But after it’s all over, it’s a little bit comical.

Tonight when everyone winds down, I’m going to put my feet up and thank my lucky stars that tomorrow is a new day and that I don’t have carpet in the bathroom.

The Joy of Childhood

She just turned 26 months old. I know I’m not supposed to do that anymore, you know, count her months. But I’m just going to make my own rules up as I go. Time is too precious to just cast it aside and not see every moment for the treasure that it is.

Guess what we did today?

We built a snowman. Not a real snowman of course. It’s actually a blustery, warm spring day, not a flake in sight, but it was her first day to watch the movie Frozen. Afterwards, she asked if I wanted to build a snowman with her. “Come on,” she said patting her thigh as if calling a dog, so of course I did.

She is such a joy. So smart. She pretends and plays make-believe all day long. One minute she’s Cinderella, forcibly kicking off her plastic dress up shoe and saying she better get in her carriage while running to sit in her pink Barbie Jeep, and the next minute she is pouring tea for me and adding spoonfuls of sugar. She goes on Bear Hunts and squelch-squearches through the mud and peels pinecones apart declaring they are surprise eggs and wonders what’s inside.

We built our snowman today with a carrot nose made from a blue piece of wire found in the yard and two eyes and arms she stuck in the ground.

Her shoes were on the wrong feet, chocolate smudged her lips.

Her dog-ears had long since lost their snugness and flopped haphazardly.

She searched for crickets and got scared by something and ran to my side.

I lay in the grass just watching her and feeling filled to the measure with happiness and joy that she is mine.

Our days are filled with magical make-believe, chocolate kisses and snowmen fashioned from dirt.

It’s been a very long time since my own childhood, but I can vividly remember the games I played with my own imagination. How magical my world of pretend was.

Watching EK grow and play in this same make-believe way takes me to a place I used to know. It reawakens a child I used to be. I remember care-free days where nothing really mattered.

And now all that truly matters is that this little dog-eared 2-year-old (ahem……26 month old) who brings me such joy.

2 Years Old

Emma Kate Darling,

Happy, Happy 2nd Birthday to you!!!

Oh I hope you know how much you are loved. But I’m sure you don’t. Of all the thousands upon thousands of words I have to use, there aren’t enough to convey it.

And not to boast or anything, (well maybe just a little), but you love your mommy right back. I mean a whole lot. Me and you? We’re like peanut butter and jelly. Or milk and cookies. Like hot chocolate and marshmallows or strawberries and cream. The two are better than one. Of the two years of your life, so far we have only been away from one another for a few hours at a time. 24/7 that’s me and you.

I keep thinking back to this day two years ago when you came screaming and crying into our world. People said my life would never be the same, and boy is that the truth. It is all the more enjoyable because of you.

So what does a 2 year old like you like? Right now, you really love Cinderella and you sing a lot. You pick up items to use as your microphone, and sing into it. You like to play dress up in your plastic, clompy heels and have tea parties with your daddy. You really love the playground and don’t like leaving once we’re done. There’s so many other things. Your dogs: Drew, Grace and Ozzie, your chickens, and your new fish Snowman. You make sure we wait for you to get your purse and put it on your shoulder when we take out the trash. You like to drive your daddy’s truck, so for Christmas you received a pink Barbie jeep but you barely push it to make it go one inch, then stop it.

People think you are timid and shy, but I think you are cautious. And that is a smart thing to be. You like to stay close to your people when we’re in a new place or around a lot of people and you don’t really talk to strangers or even look them in the eye. And that’s just fine for now. There’s not an impulsive bone in your body. You are an observer and a thinker. You wait and watch rather than jumping right in. And even though others might think they can boss you around, you know how to stand up for yourself. You have a strong voice and an opinion and you aren’t afraid to use it. Some of your favorite things to say right now sound very oppositional if you know what I mean.

But you also say so many sweet, kind things too. You are learning your manners very well and say thank you so much, please, excuse me and you tell people bless you when they sneeze. You say “I love you much” and if we’re really lucky we get hugs and kisses. You like to give long kisses until we start to laugh and our teeth bump. You give love pats and like to snuggle up in bed. You have a tender little heart at times and are learning compassion. You crawled into my lap and placed your hands on my face and asked me what’s wrong the other day when I was frustrated with something. Just last night you made me laugh when you fell upon the ground with your head resting on your forearms repeating, “It’s no use. It’s no use.” (learned from Cinderella) when you didn’t get your way. It is very obvious that you are a result of your environment and your daddy and I are trying our very best to show you the right way and give you strong examples to follow.

Of course books are still one of your favorite things but you’re pretty fond of movies as well. We take a weekly outing to the library for a story time and we take a weekly outing to a play group where you have lots of friends. Right now we’re working on learning to share and not be a Bossy Bessie!

Of course you’re smart. You have been from day one when you looked at us with those big alert eyes and understood everything we said to you. You are a talker with a big vocabulary, but you get a little frustrated at times when we don’t know what you’re trying to tell us. You have things memorized already like songs and the previews to Cinderella. You found this Youtube video months ago called egg surprise that you watch over and over and can recite verbatim. You are fully potty trained right now and are showing your independence with wanting to dress yourself and put your shoes and socks on.

You are a small, petite child. And healthy!!! Fortunately, we haven’t had to see a doctor in quite some time, so by our calculations you are about 32 inches tall and weigh about 22.5 pounds. You’re fearfully and wonderfully made and uniquely you. There is no one else like you sweet Emma. I must say I believe I won the jackpot with you.

Two years ago, you came into our world and settled right into our hearts. I have a very special place for you in mine. You will always be my little baby no matter how old or tall or heavy you grow and my desire is for you to have the best possible childhood available to you. I want you to know you are loved. I want you to remember good times with your family. I want you to understand that spending time with you is more important to us than spending money on you. I want you to be kind and generous and compassionate to others. I hope you read this letter when you’re sixteen and you think I hate you. I want you to know that always and forever our love for you is full, unlimited, and unconditional. That nothing you could/would/should ever do will change that. Ever. You are my joy, my love, my sunshine, my hope, my wealth, my legacy.

You are my love.

Happy Birthday, cupcake.

XOXO,

MomMEE ( how you say it, with emphasis on the second syllable)

18 months old

Dear Emma Kate,

Today you are 18 months old. One and a half. You are a delight to this world. You make it a better place to live already, in just 18 short months you’ve truly made a difference in many people’s lives. Remember to always strive to add beauty and make this world a better place.

Let’s see……there is so much to say about you. First off, you are talker! You aren’t easily understood except by those close to you, but you talk up a storm, and I don’t just mean you babble.

You like to pray, and that makes my heart so happy. When we sit down to eat, you remind us to “pay” and you reach for our hands. You bow your little head, but still peek out from under your hair (we know that because we’re peeking at you too). When we’re finished, you say Amen and squeeze three times. It is so precious.

You love books as always and want us to read to you all the time.

You are so smart. I know I’ve told you that since you were born, but you were born smarter than most adults ever manage to become! You love to write your letters. You call them all E, A, and O’s.

You sing songs. Your favorite is Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and you have these sweet hand motions that go with it that you learned from play group. You also sing If You’re Happy and You Know it, B-I-N-G-O, You are my sunshine and lots more!

If you had a choice, you’d be outside! You are not a prissy pants, although you do like dressing up in necklaces and grown up shoes and calling yourself “toot” (cute), but you also eat dog food, waller in dirt, and don’t mind a little grit under your fingernails.

You love our dogs Drew and Grace and it is so funny to hear you talk to them. If you’re not giving them hugs and kisses, then you’re telling them “Go, Move, and No”! You also love the chickens and you hug their butts all the time.

You are just a little thing. We’ll be going to the doctor soon for a check up but I bet you weigh just barely over twenty pounds. You can still wear 12 month clothes and the 18 months are just a little roomy for you. You are super healthy and have never been too sick!!! I’m so happy about that.

As far as your personality goes, you are adorable! You like familiar people, and it takes you a good while to warm up to others that you aren’t around much. It hurts their feelings sometimes I think, but they’re grown ups and can deal with it. So you keep on being careful around others and be choosy in your friends. You are a watcher and an observer. You don’t just jump in and do things, but you analyze situations and sit back rather than dive right in.

You are a mommy’s girl! And you’ve even started being jealous if someone else touches me or tries to love on me. You yell “no no no” and wring your little hands. It’s so cute. I know you won’t always be a mommy’s girl, and there will be times that you, dare I say, will even think you hate me. But I will love you no matter what. Through all the highs and lows and ups and downs. You are my baby girl. You’re growing up and I am so proud to have you! Always know how much you are loved!

I love you!!!!!

xoxo

Mommy

12 months

It’s unbelievable.

It’s inconceivable.

It’s unfathomable.

I’m sitting up in bed with you sleeping soundly beside me, studying your precious face and shaking my head in disbelief. Can this really be true?

One year, Emma Kate. One year.

This time last year, after a serious ordeal of labor and delivery, you made your appearance and have been a joy to me every single day since.

Let me tell you a little about yourself. First off, nearly every recent picture I have of you is blurry because you are on the go all the time. You took your first wobbly steps almost 4 weeks ago, and now you are practically running.

You love songs, books, babies, dogs, fish, cats, bath, outside, and your momma.

You dislike someone trying to feed you, laying still to get your diaper changed, having something taken from you, sleeping alone, and being left with strangers.

You can talk a blue streak. Some new words you began saying this month are juice, more, fish, Elmo, Emma, and no, no, no.

You love to talk on the phone and often have someone’s cell phone up to your ear pretending. You like to put things in little hidey holes too. I opened the pots and pan cabinet and found a sippy cup and found a sock in a cereal box.

A blurry picture of you with your necklace.

Your daddy thinks you might be a girly-girl because you love bracelets and necklaces and wear them around the house. Even if it’s not a “real” necklace, you turn it into one. You were wearing a cell phone cord around your neck, dragging it on the ground the other day, and you’ll put anything on your wrist that’s circular and then walk around holding your arm up so it rests on the crook of your elbow.

You like to watch Elmo’s World and sing the Barney song with your Grandy. When she starts singing, you begin to sway back and forth and give a big hug (with a grunt) and blow a kiss too.

You’re really super affectionate mostly and pat the people you love on the check and give kisses and hugs. But with people you don’t know very well, you are reserved and solemn, barely cracking a smile or interacting, but instead sitting back and watching.

You make us laugh all the time at your new antics. And I love to watch you walk. You have this funny side-step-shuffle with your elbows bent upward. You also learned to drink from a straw this month.

You still only have 6 teeth, your eyes are big and beautiful, you are cute as a bug, and you have learned how to really cry hard when you aren’t getting something you want or something is being taken away from you.

You still don’t sleep all night long, but I guess there’s worse things in life, and we’ll all survive. We’ve made it 12 months so far, I’m sure a few more months won’t kill us.

This past year, you have taught me to love more than I ever knew I was capable of. You have taught me to savor the moments because they vanish so quickly. You have taught me to see the world with the same kind of newness you do, and to adore chubby little bellies and dimpled hands. You are my baby girl. And even though your first year is now behind us, and we are moving into toddlerhood, you will always, always be my baby.

I love you so very much sweet one.

XOXO,

Mama

Tight Spaces

Forgive the quality of the photos in this post. I think I must have been drunk when I took these. Just kidding. Really, they were taken with my phone, which is so old it’s considered a dumb smart phone.

Lately our little EK has been quite the explorer. Finding just the right spaces to crawl into is her current obsession.

First, she empties the small space to make room for herself.

And then she climbs in.

She’s especially partial to cabinets.

Although she doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes, she prefers drawers.

And occasionally, she’ll attempt to fit herself in a canvas bin.

When she’s not squeezing into small spaces, she’s climbing on top of them.

And going after what she wants.

Even if she has to get on her tippy toes.

The To Do List

I try to start my day off with a list of to-do’s. Not because I want to, I actually despise lists, but because without one, I’m pretty dad gum worthless. We all know that one person who doesn’t have a lazy bone in their body right? Well, that’s not me. My body is chock full of lazy bones. 206 to be exact. I can whittle away the hours doing nothing and be perfectly content. It shows too. My laundry and refrigerator are proof.

Lists are my husband’s thing. He swears by them. Each day, he makes a list for his day and is fully self-driven enough to accomplish more than he has written down.

I’m fully self driven enough to make a list and then sit down.

I try.

I usually fail.

But I try.

Here’s my list from about 5 days ago.

Yes, you read that right, it says “Get Dressed”. I always do, but if I write it down, at least I can scratch one thing off. It makes me feel as if I’ve accomplished something. Trivial maybe, but something.

But as you can see, nothing is checked off this list. And I did some of these things, I really did. But I never came back to check the list to see what I did and didn’t do. I’m still waiting to blog the rat pic, it’s coming, be aware. And I’m still waiting to exercise. It’s probably not coming, be aware.

As I was writing my list, my little Emma Kate wanted to write her own list too. So she took the pen and I guided her little hand as she jotted down some of her to-do’s as well. Now I realize to the untrained eye, it may appear to be a bit of scribble, but it’s not. Don’t feel bad if you can’t read it. It’s kind of like speaking pig-latin. Either you got it, or you don’t. I got it. Call it mother intuition or deciphering phonetic writing of elementary children for too long or just a weird sixth sense, but that list is perfectly legible to me.

EK’s To Do List

1) Pull out all the Tupperware lids from kitchen drawer

2) Remove the dish towels and burp clothes and scatter them among the kitchen floor from kitchen drawer #2

3) Open the cabinet drawers in the dining room and eat the Scentsy bars of wax

4) Be sure and get the toilet brush in my mouth at least one time

5) Fake mom out where she thinks I’m actually going to nap for more than 15 minutes

6) Pull books off the bookcase

7) Take off my socks

8) Eat crumbs from my high chair seat that have been there excessively too long

9) Throw my food in the floor

10) Smear snot all over my face

11) Prevent mom from completing her to-do list so she has someone else to blame besides her 206 lazy bones

And like her daddy, she gets it all done and then some!!

10 months

My dearest, sweet, little Emma Kate,

You are 10 months old baby. It is nothing short of mind-boggling. 10 months!! Part of me aches to watch you grow so fast. Some days I long for that newborn who slept and cooed and watched the world behind those beautiful eyes. But then the other part of me can’t wait to see you grow. To watch you accomplish all that you can. I try to cherish each and every day, even when they seem monotonous. But they really aren’t. You learn something new everyday. You may not be a newborn anymore, but you still watch the world from behind your beautiful eyes and it is fascinating to see you learn.

You are straight up adorable. That’s all there is to it. You started singing this month. Your Grandy and Ash taught you to sing “la, la, la”.

You do motions to The Itsy Bitsy Spider, and you really wash that spider out! And the sun comes out with your little arms reaching way up to the top of your beautiful head. You are all grins too. You are sure proud of yourself when you do something big like that.

You clap your hands along with “When you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands”, and you still love your books. You’re favorite has always been Pete the Cat–I Love My White Shoes. Your Grandy bought you a Pete the Cat stuffed doll and your aunt Jo got you Pete the Cat–Rocking My School Shoes and you love reading them with somebody or by yourself.

You’ve learned how to open drawers and cabinets this month and empty them completely out. Now, you need to learn how to put it all back!

You can say mama, dada, bye-bye, night night, num-num (which means yum yum) and you started saying “Ash” plain as day. It is adorable! Now you just say it all day long. You definitely understand everything we say to you. When I ask you “Where’s Ash?” You start looking towards her bedroom here trying to find her. You can comb your hair and brush your teeth (in a perfect 10 month old way), drink from a cup (with not much spilled down the front), feed yourself with a spoon and fork (when we load it up of course), and give hugs and kisses.

Pulling up has become old hat to you now, and just this week you’ve started standing alone for longer periods– like about 8 seconds. Might not be sound long, but it is when you’re balancing huh baby? Or riding a bull, which you will never ever attempt, just so you know. I just felt like we needed to get that established right here and now. You walk all around holding on to things, like the couch, the end tables, your crib. Just like what you’ll do in the swimming pool in a few years. You love to explore and you climb the porch steps up to the door.

You are a good-natured girl who knows what she wants and doesn’t want. You don’t let anyone persuade you to do something you don’t want to do, which isn’t fun when getting your diaper changed, but will play an important role when you are a teenager.

You are beautiful, smart, happy, and loved beyond measure.

We take great delight in you, Emmy. You are our girl!

XOXO,

Mama

Forgetaboutit!

There’s this movie that probably came out in the 90’s or something called Donnie Brasco. I watched it once, a long time ago, and it was a decent movie. Decent, if you like filth, and violence, and mafia crime. Sex, and cussing, murder and mayhem. Which, hey, Iain’tgonnalie, I do. Sometimes I even like it in my movies. Haha. Oh boy, I crack myself up.

Anyway, you should watch it sometime, as long as you don’t go to church with me. And if you do go to church with me, then it’s one of those classic “do as I say, not as I do” hypocritical, Christian, faux pas.

It’s got Johnny Depp and Al Pacino. Two dark, handsome tough guys, who cuss an awful lot. Somehow, hearing mafia dudes say farfignooten just doesn’t really cut it. Johnny is a cop trying to bring down some huge mafia dudes, one of which is Al Pacino. In order to do this, he goes undercover as a mafia guy and tries to learn all their secrets and stuff.

So there’s this great part of the movie where two guys (not mafia dudes) ask Johnny Depp to explain what “forgetaboutit” means. Evidently, if you’re mafia, it’s one of those words you say all the time.

Right up there with farfignooten.

So Johnny tries to explain.

Forgetaboutit means you agree with someone. “Forgetaboutit!”
And sometimes you say it if you disagree with someone. “Forgetaboutit!”
Sometimes it means something’s the greatest thing in the world. “Forgetaboutit!”
But it also is like saying go to hell. “Forgetaboutit”
And sometimes, it just means, you know, forgetaboutit.

Since I’m no Johnny Depp, here’s the video clip, complete with cuss words.

We have a forgetaboutit at my house too.

It’s “mama”

When my 8 month old says it, she means I’m hungry. “mama!”
But sometimes she means I’m tired. “mama!”
Or if she wants to be held. “mama.”
But maybe she wants milk. “mama.”

And sometimes, it just means, you know, mama.

sleeping, eating, and other motherly woes

Of one thing I’m certain: each day that I’m given is more proof of how little I know.

We’ve all been there, a time in our life when we thought we knew it all. When we stuck our chest out and announced, if only to ourselves, “I got this.”

For me that was 7 months and 3 weeks ago.

Before her.

But now those days are over. Although I’ve always felt like I relied on God, I can tell you that this day, today, without a doubt, I desperately need His grace, His direction, His wisdom, combined with His mercy and goodness and provision, tossed in with a good handful of His forgiveness and a shake or two of second chances.

Raising a child is hard. And I have a good one. She’s not difficult, really. Perhaps a touch stubborn and spirited. She doesn’t sleep like other mother’s claim their babies sleep. And she doesn’t eat like she’s supposed to. She’s adventurous and bold, she’s determined and serious. Sometimes she’s playful and occasionally you could even say she’s sweet. Each day I ask God to help me and to forgive me.

If she has trouble sleeping, it’s because of me not her. I have 0%consistency in my day. Schedules are for trains.

If she has trouble eating, I’ll take the blame on that too, although she’s the one with her lips clamped together.

I’ve scoured the internet for help on every parenting subject that one could encounter with an almost 8 month old. (because the internet doesn’t lie)

*Breastfeeding
*co-sleeping
*baby wearing
*sign language
*pacifiers
*teething
*crawling
*separation anxiety
*night weaning
*sleep training

Plus lots more.
Through my hours upon hours of research, I’ve discovered there’s basically two camps of parenting.

1) “the force your baby to do what you want” camp

2) the “forget about your life, it’s officially over, make concessions for your baby’s needs” camp

I’m no longer looking for advice, I’ve received enough. So really, you don’t need to give me any, but I will allow you to commiserate with me all you want!

I’m just writing to air my frustrations, state my opinions, and talk out loud.

Case in point. Sleep trainers suggest that I put her in her crib for naps and at bedtime when she’s drowsy but still awake. Not to rock her or nurse her, or give her any sleep crutches what so ever. After placing her in the crib drowsy, but awake, she is supposed to put herself to sleep. All on her own. This has actually happened a time or two when she was smaller. I can actually testify that when she’s in her appropriate window of sleepiness, as long as she’s not teething or gassy, when her diaper is dry, and her room is the correct temperature, as long as her nose isn’t stuffy or her socks aren’t too tight, and as long as the moon is in the second house, she will actually go to sleep.

But most of the time, when I put her in her crib, I get this.

Now, how can I tell her no and lay her back down, when for the last two weeks, I’ve been clapping and cheering every time she pulled herself up to standing?

Then she looks at me with this face of “aren’t you proud of me for pulling myself up, that’s a new trick you know mom. When I’ve done it before you’ve danced a jig”, and yes baby I am so proud of you, and then she gives me the “aren’t you going to pick me up and hug me. I’m whimpering over here?”

I’m at a crossroads. If I pick her up, then she won’t understand she’s supposed to lay down. And if I tell her,”no, lay down”, she won’t understand how proud I am of her for working so hard to stand up. During this sort of dilemma, my maternal instinct usually wins. The one that says love and comfort, hush her cries, make her feel safe and loved. I know I’m reinforcing undesirable habits, but I can only pray that I’m building trust and reassuring her that she needn’t worry about her needs being met.

After giving this parenting gig a go for the last 8 months, I’ve come to some conclusions.

Of the little I know, this is what I know:

All babies are unique.
I must figure what works best for my family.
If the situation isn’t a problem to the family, then the family shouldn’t let society (or the internet) convince them it’s a problem.
There’s really no right way to do this.
Most other mothers must be liars, wanting others to believe they have dream babies, or it’s been so long ago, they’ve forgotten.
I don’t have the answers and can only do my best.
I’m going to mess up everyday and I can only hope she doesn’t turn out to be Jeffrey Dahmerish. Or worse.

God bless all mothers, everywhere!