I Thought It Would Be Easy

I loved playing with dolls as a young girl.  I was the oldest.  I babysat.  I taught swim lessons.  I saw all the older girls from my sorority doing it.

So, before children, when I thought about motherhood?  I felt pretty confident.  

I was excited.  I remember thinking, “It’s going to be great.  For the first time in my life, I am going to be taking on a role that I was designed for.”

After a lifetime of always having to work so hard, trying to fit into roles that were not part of my natural DNA, this would finally be the thing that would come easy.

Even birth would be a breeze.  My body was designed for it.  Heck, I had been blessed with birthing hips by 4th grade.  After years of putting my body in situations it was never designed for, like hip hop dance classes and crossfit, birth would be the first time that my body would do exactly what nature intended it to do.  

But, even with the confidence and excitement, I wasn’t naive.  I knew there would be diapers and late night feedings.  So, being the eager first time parent I was, I read the books and we took the classes.  

We were ready.

Ready for a beautiful, drug free birth.  Ready for a baby that would sleep train with ease.  A baby that would fit right into our life and come along for the ride.  Travel would be a cinch.  As would preparing all organic purees from food I grew.  I would work out everyday pushing the jogger stroller in the best mom-chic athlesuire.  My cute baby would sit quietly at lunch dates and independently play as I prepared dinner each night.  Nothing but the joy in our hearts would change.

I had this in the bag. It would be easy.

… Oh, you sweet, sweet girl.  You didn’t have a clue.

And, it started at birth.  There I was with my birth plan, ready for the experience Adam and I had created in our last lamaze class, only to learn after fifty hours of labor, nothing about motherhood- even the first few minutes- is easy.

Blindsided by every situation in the blur that was maternity leave, I returned to work and was asked how things were going only to respond, “It is the hardest thing I have ever done.”

Work, which I once thought was a challenge, became a place that I felt relief.  After a morning of the physical demands of getting two squirmy toddlers fed, dressed and off to school, combined with the mental stress of a two year olds emotions and wondering if the baby’s runny nose is something to worry about, work became a place I could hide.  A place where I didn’t question my strategies and positive results and feedback showed up quickly.

After hours, it sometimes would feel like the clock was going backwards.  

“I just have to make it to bedtime,” I would think pouring a glass of wine.

I recently heard another mom to a few toddlers say, “I am so excited.  It’s just going to keep getting easier from here.”

I understood her thought process.  I too have daydreamed about life getting on “auto-pilot” for a bit.  For things to become physically easier.  Knowing that we all will be getting a full nights sleep on a constant basis will make things easier.  Everyone walking and able to use the restroom on their own will be easier.  Kids after their own privacy so I can have mine too will be easier…

… but, also hard.

What are they doing?

Who are their friends?

Are they sitting by the troublemaker in class and getting bullied?  Or worse… Becoming a troublemaker too? 

Why is math so hard for them?  Do they need additional help from a tutor?

We have one hour with the tutor on Monday.  Tuesday we have to work on 4-H projects.  Wednesday is soccer.  Thursday is the class party- we signed up to bring cups and Ritz crackers.  And, I gotta remember Friday is PJ day.

… Makes deciphering boogers seem simple.

This isn’t going to be getting any easier.

It will be the hardest thing I have ever done.

But, I am not going to miss it for work or a glass of wine.