I’m in complete denial.
In one month, my crotchblossom will be a year old. I literally remember giving birth like it was yesterday (how fun that is, huh?)
As horrible as pushing a 7lb3oz baby out of my hoo-ha was.. and all the times I said “I WILL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN” while my stitches were healing.. all I remember now is the good things.
How good it felt to actually have Holden OUT of me (like the biggest poop ever, literally), and how amazing it felt to hold MY baby in my arms. The one i’d been dying to see for the entire 10 months I carried him. That’s right ladies, pregnancy is TEN months, not nine. Don’t let people lie to you.
Don’t get any crazy ideas, I do not plan on having another for a LONG time.. but sometimes thinking about it is nice.
Especially since Holden was supposed to be a girl.. well.. in my brain anyways.
When I got pregnant, I was 22 years old, gave birth at 23 years old.
While Holden was planned, 5 years ago I would have laughed in anyones face who said i’d be having a child this young. It just didn’t seem to be in the cards for me.
before Holden, I was… well… a partier. I was working on becoming a professional musician (www.myspace.com/jennyfisher), had just recorded a new CD.. played late shows a few times a week, basically partied every night and hung out with a pretty intense crowd.
Needless to say, that’s not how my life is now.
Life now revolves around my little boy. We go by a strict schedule, we don’t go out that often.. hell, Thomas and I haven’t been out alone since JANUARY (that’s another story).
As monotonous as it is, I find comfort in it. Comfort in the fact that I love my son, and that I am able to stay at home with him and raise him how I feel that he deserves to be raised.. giving him all the attention he could ever ask for.
I never did really enjoy working, though. Not any of the odd jobs I had anyways.
There are days (even weeks) where I feel like i’m going to go stir crazy, that I can’t handle Holden one more second without snapping, but I wouldn’t give up being a stay at home mom for anything- not even playing music.
I think the biggest downside is the loss of friendships. A lot of people up and bailed on me once I got married and pregnant. Most of them just aren’t ready to grow up, and maybe it freaked them out that I took a lot of steps towards that in such a short amount of time and they wanted to hang onto their youth for as long as possible.
Maybe they just didn’t care to be friends with someone who was becoming a mother- it didn’t fit their current lifestyle.
Either way, it sucked, and continues to suck.
Looking at it now, the people who couldn’t support me into motherhood probably weren’t the types of friends I need now anyways- but it does get lonely at times.
There aren’t many intelligent conversations you can hold with a 1 year old that don’t involve a lot of babble and funny looks.
Considering my age.. Mommy groups don’t appeal to me. They’re mostly older soccer moms, people who I have nothing in common with other than the fact that we pushed bowling balls out of our nether regions (well.. some had them cut out, but either way).
I’m just not looking to bond over stretch marks and the dreaded ‘mommy-pooch’
Even the ones who have accidentally gotten knocked up post Holden’s birth.. don’t really come around. I don’t know why. I can’t make sense of much of it.. but i’ve become a ‘loner’
it would feel weird going out and partying, knowing my baby is at home (hopefully) missing me. Even when i’m away from him (which isn’t very often), i’m thinking about him, what he’s doing.. if he’s being good.
That tells me that not only has my LIFE changed, but I have changed.
Comes with the territory of motherhood, though… minus crackheads and deadbeats.
It seems like the new trend is to start this whole blogging deal.
I did it before.. back when I was angsty and had a lot to complain about, now I guess it’s going to be more about dirty diapers and teething and screaming babies.
As mean as it sounds, I could bitch for days about the evil things my kid does.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.