Guilty Displeasures

I knew since that day that I fell in love with my wonderful and perfectly goofy husband that I wanted to have a child or children with him. I wanted to expand our love. I deeply desired to procreate and shower our baby-us with our lifetime wealth of knowledge and our chests of explosive love. That wish and desire only grew as our inability to effectively reproduce did, too. And, on it went for years. And years. And, well...you get the idea.

And, now that I am blessed to be a mother mom (I don't think I will ever be a "mother"), I finally get to experience all that I knew I was and thought I was missing out on. I joined the secret mommy club. We did it! We have a baby-us...and she is wonderful and beautiful...and all things entirely awesome.

But, there is another side to all of this. One that isn't as apparent to the world outside a parent's doors because who wants to share what isn't so appealing all of the time?

However, who am I to ever keep my mouth shut? Or my words sealed inside of my head? So, I share. And, that being, in all of that time of our desperately wanting and heartbreakingly not realizing, I never thought to delve into the true and sometimes un-pretty reality that is parenthood. Like the fact that I might never go to the bathroom alone again. Or that sometimes my baby-us has to go to the dentist with me. Or that reading a book is now for other people. Or that if I choose to shower at a time other than when Peanut is sleeping, that it might be an excruciating exercise in the most brutal kind of patience. One where an infant clings to your naked and wet legs and then repeats a similar sort of behavior and then also cries the ENTIRE time you try to get ready.

It is moments like this when I get frustrated with mommydom. It is also moments like this that I feel guilty because THIS is exactly what I wanted for 5 plus years....and now that I have it, and so many others still don't...it makes me feel like a bad person for even thinking of complaining. But, I have to allow myself the guilty displeasures along with all the greatness that being a mommy is...because that is what real life is all about. The good. The bad. The ugly.

And, the being able to express yourself no matter the current good, bad, or ugly circumstance.

And, so I shall. And does it mean that I am a bad mom? Or that I love my Peanut any less? Not a bit. Thank you very much! It just means that I am still me. And life is still life. Messy. Beautiful. Not perfect, but wonderful.

Now time to go get the Nut...nap time (read: me time) is now over!