Before I got pregnant, I swore I wasn’t going to be a mom. Kids are expensive and I wanted a penthouse suite with a nice view and a lot of windows, and a big bed all for myself. Then, when I got pregnant, I swore I wasn’t going to be “that” mom, you know the one who camera roll is filled with pictures of her kids literally just lying there on a blanket with a dead faced expression and you’re like “omg thats amazing Brenda, wow, your kid’s personality shines in these,” meanwhile you’re like “I just looked at 100 of the same exact photo on Brenda’s phone. I think her kid is sleeping with its eyes open.” Yeah, safe to say, don’t look at my camera roll. Brenda was me in this hypothetical story.
I also want to preface this blog, and actually all of my blogs. I don’t get on my blog to just bitch and moan about how hard motherhood is. I actually, surprisingly, enjoy it almost every day. But, after talking with friends who asked questions like “did you just connect instantly and feel motherly when Zara came out?” or “Isn’t motherhood the best and greatest joy in life?” my answers were not yes. And I was confused and felt sort of like an imposter just pretending to be this baby’s mom, wiping a butt and cleaning spit up, but not really 100 percent connected to her. So I wanted to write this mom blog to say that yes motherhood is all that and a bag of chips, and I don’t take it for granted, and I love Zara more than anything in the entire world, but some days I wake up and want to call a substitute teacher but for moms. I think hearing real stories about moms, good and bad, is important when we are constantly hearing things along the lines of: “this is the best job in the world! I had no purpose until I pushed this baby out!” and that is valid nonetheless, but I wanted to write this blog to just give people the real, unfiltered, un-everything-I-post-on-facebook-is-the-highlight-of-my-motherhood-journey, whether these stories are boring, exciting, funny, happy, sad, all of the feels.