MamaBlogga

We may all have come to motherhood differently, with different expectations, for different reasons. But on the really bad days—the ones that start at 6 AM, after the kids have gotten me out of bed ten times (no exaggerating) during the night, where my patience is threadbare before both children have finished breakfast—in my heart of hearts, I’m afraid that I’m one of those people who should never be a mother.

Really, I know that’s not true. I know that this is what I’m supposed to do, and I’ve always known it. At my high school graduation, they had us fill out a slip of paper with our top three career choices. I put down writer and, after some thought, mother.

As I recall, I couldn’t think of a third.

But even if motherhood hasn’t been the destination you’ve envisioned since high school, you are meant to be a mother. If your arms have ever hungered for a child—if you’ve ever struggled with your children all day, only to miss them the minute they’re asleep—if you’ve ever marveled that this perfect little person, this growing, intelligent, sweet, forgiving child, could be yours—

If you have ever loved your child—

You are meant to be a mother.

Once upon a time, Rebecca liked solid foods. Okay, well, she liked bananas like two times. But at eight months, she’s once again nursing exclusively.

Baby: folds for easy storage convenience!

I think it had something to do with the entire month she spent with teeth painfully bulging her gums. The closest she came to solids was a steady stream of Tylenol.

Also, she had the dreaded car pox

We tried a variety of foods; we gave her teething biscuits; we let her hold saltines. The only thing she had any interest in sticking in her mouth was the bottle of the aforementioned medicine.

Silly Mommy. I don’t want this!

One tooth finally came through last Friday and the second this Friday. But that wasn’t what it took to get her interested in solids.

Yesterday, I had some beef stew. She found my empty bowl very interesting, so I tried to tease her with a little of the leftover sauce in a spoon.

She ate it. She ate and ate and ate until I couldn’t scrape together enough to put in her mouth anymore. I fetched half a teething biscuit; she suddenly understood where that was supposed to go. She went to town on some saltines.

Nummy!

We haven’t attempted any more solids today, but here’s hoping she’ll be interested when we do!

Today’s my birthday, no April Foolin’. Feel free to share your birthday wishes here! Thank you!

(And before you ask, I’m 26. I don’t mind saying, but asking is just soooo tacky, don’t you think?)