But the reality is, that's just not me. I am a big dreamer, and a perpetual under-achiever. This means I am far from the title of supermom..and maybe closer to Sub par Mom. Most of the time, I'm just trying to make it through the day. If my son is well-kempt, well-fed, and in a generally agreeable disposition by the end of the day I call it a success. My holy grail comes when I also manage to shower, comb my hair, and take a poop without interruption. Now THAT is something. You can see that this leaves little time for me to navigate a Baby Brezza manual (baby food maker) or accomplish the extra loads of laundry that cloth diapers necessitate. I am learning that motherhood is a juggling act and I am careful about what I try and add into the mix. Unfortunately, this means I don't quite add up to a lot of the other superhuman mommies out there. The following is a mini-list of my mommy grievances:
- I use disposable diapers. Loads of em'. They may have to start a new landfill just to contain all of my son's shitty diapers. I lack the motivation, and the stomach to even consider cloth diapering. I often wonder if those who choose to do so have baby's with dainty bowels. I'm pretty positive my son is part ogre and has epic diaper explosions to prove it. I don't care to keep those around as a souvenir.
- I don't make my own baby food, and..gulp...I don't even always buy organic. The stuff is crazy expensive and every organic garden I have tried to lovingly foster thus far, has died a slow, painful death far before it was time to harvest my fruits or veggies.
- I am not teaching my son baby sign language. I'd love to, I would. It's just soooo not happening right now. I guess I would have to first teach myself the basic signs, from a library book or something, and then try and get my husband and the baby to use those signs. I'm a little exhausted just thinking about it. Seriously, I found my car keys in the fridge this morning and I'm supposed to learn and teach an entirely new language? Ha!
- At eight months old, my son doesn't sleep through the night. I take responsibility for this as we have never had him on a set schedule, and have allowed him to sleep in our room or in our bed since his birth. I admit that I am completely spineless and lack the courage or willpower or whatever to let him "cry-it-out". Frankly, we'll just be glad if he makes it out of our room before college.