I wish someone told me motherhood is not for the faint of heart. And stressed the overwhelming sense of responsibility that comes in raising a child. To raise him to be safe and kind and sympathetic and confident. All of those things you want your child to be to make this world a little easier to maneuver.
I wish someone told me that the love a mother has for her child is incredibly fierce and when he hurts, I hurt. That I’ll want to fight all of his battles for him. But I’m doing him justice if I let him fight on his own.
I wish someone told me having a child is so. very. painful. That I’d be sent home with a 6-week supply of maxi pads larger than my head and one-size-fits-all mesh underpants that spanned my entire torso. And the first time I tried to relax in the tub, my vagina would be so swollen I would think it had turned itself inside out.
I wish someone told me it would take at least nine months after childbirth to feel like myself again. To belly laugh without it being forced or a front.
I wish someone told me there’s no right answer when parenting. We all simply do the best we can with the best intentions for our children. We all mess up. And then there are shining moments when we get it absolutely right.
I wish someone told me that it’s pure joy to be needed and loved the way children need and love their moms. Even in the middle of the night. When they have a hangnail.
I wish someone told me it’s okay to send my kids to school in house slippers, shorts in the winter, and mismatched socks. And if their hair gets brushed in the mornings, it’s a bonus.
I wish someone told me I would come to love potty humor, burp contests, and know all of the verses to the “Beans, Beans The Magical Fruit.”
I wish someone told me there would constantly be crusted food stuck to the floor, pee on the toilet seat, crayon on the walls, and sand in the bathtub. And sometimes I wouldn’t have any idea who or where it came from. But life goes on.
I wish someone told me you could still be hot and drive a minivan. Because I would have been a lot less judgmental in my younger years. And those women would have been my heroes instead of zeros.
I wish someone told me there would be days I don’t like my children. Just like there are days I don’t like my husband (sorry, honey). And it has absolutely no effect on my unconditional love for them. Bad days just happen. And make the good days that much better.
I wish someone told me how much I would come to appreciate my own mother and grandmothers through parenting.
I wish someone told me that no matter how badly I feel I may be screwing up my kids, chances are, they’re going to turn out just fine.
I wish someone told me “I Told You So” can sometimes be a blessing if you take time to sift through the emotion and listen to the message.
Linking Up with Mama Kat: “I Wish Someone Told Me”