<- This is MUCH harder than it looks.
Anyone else besides me sometimes feel a growing fear of your baby? Though I shouldn't call her "baby" anymore - she's a little girl now, excuse me - but you know, she'll always be a baby to me. And don't get me wrong, we're bonding, having little conversations (sort of), rolling around the floor while I tickle her. So yeah, of couse, it's been fun. But it's also been TERRIFYING at times.
Like when she's crying and crying and I don't know how to make her happy. When she wants a snack minutes after a huge meal, and I give in, knowing I'm completely going against doctors orders, and am probably wrecking her feeding system. When I've spent an entire day cleaning up after her, only to find the house not only is still a mess at the end of it, but now also smells like puke. Times like these make me fear for my motherhood. Make me feel like I'm missing something, and maybe someone cleaner, stronger and more organized should be doing this.
It's been awhile now that I'd been telling myself that the "accomplished mother" feeling will come, just as soon as (fill in the blank). Maybe when she'd start walking, maybe when she'd understand me more, on the rare occasion she'd take a longer nap, etc. But this feeling have NEVER COME. Ever. I'm starting to lose hope that it ever will, and that can be really discouraging.
True, I have glimpses of it - throughout the day, she's always doing something so cute or smiling so big that I think to myself, "there, here's the proof that you're not doing it all wrong." It's wonderful. But it also only lasts until the next meltdown, or until about 3 in the afternoon, when I start looking at the clock, desperate for hubby to get home.
I've thought that maybe if we had a house (with more space for her to explore), or if I was a better housekeeper who made everything look like a pottery barn ad, I wouldn't feel so helpless. But now I'm thinking this might not be true.
So this morning, instead of stressing out about giving her the perfect breakfast experience, I just played it by ear, shared my croissant & cheese with her, gave her some strawberry pieces and some bread. To my astonishment, I realized afterwards that she'd had a protein, two starches and a fruit - exactly what the doctor had recommended. Wow, I don't think I'd ever achieved such success. Maybe the secret is in not trying too hard - or maybe trying as much as you can, but not thinking about it so hard.