I became a mother at the age of 19. Although that was the dream I had for my life as a little girl, I just wasn’t adequately prepared for the adventure.
I mean, his room was painted, furniture was in place and we had clothes galore but those things just didn’t seem to matter to him at all. He just needed me and that need felt heavy, very heavy at times…
I was tormented with thoughts of inadequacy and the shame from those thoughts pushed me into a pit of depression at times. I just wanted to be like my mom. She had it all together and always showed us how much she loved her role as our mother. She was the last to sit down to eat at the dinner table and the first to go without.
I wish that I would have realized that she didn’t start off like that. I wish I would have understood that it was a process for her just like it would have to be for me.
Oh the mistakes that I made along the way. There are so many and I am certain that they’ll continue to come, but that’s okay. It’s a journey.
I’m 16+ years into it now and I have learned some things along the road.
It’s okay to let your baby cry sometimes.
Saying “no” to them sometimes is healthy.
You will have to go without some things but eventually you won’t even realize that you are.
Staying in your pajama’s until after lunch is normal.
Five minutes of your attention can make a difference.
The toys will just come out of the toy box again once you’ve picked them up.
They can handle the truth.
Your husband needs your attention too.
They grow up so quick.
Oh how things have changed.
Here I am at age 36 and starting all over again. I feel so blessed to be living out my child hood dream.