I am twenty-three years old and a first time mom...something that is not totally "in vogue" in many parts of the country. I have no luxury vehicle, baby trust fund, or uber successful career under my belt...but I've got a lot of love. A lot of love that I fully intend on lavishing on my little girl, unapologetically and with abandon for the rest of my life. In my mind it is that, not the car or job or back-stock in dollars, that most qualifies me to be a parent.
I get so sad when I read blogs, forums, and witness where moms are so hard on one another. We are our own worst critics...and we shouldn't be. Breast feeders and formula feeders, attachment parenters and self-soothers, working and stay-at-home moms...it would be so much better if we were all in this together.
Each and every "you really shouldn't be doing that" should turn into "you're doing a great job...here, let me help you if/when you fall". Because we all fall...because no parent (or person) is perfect.
My little song-bird will be two-weeks-old tomorrow...and I cannot believe it. She already seems so big to me. I am finally out of the baby blues fog (which felt like it would never, ever end). I am still baffled by the depth and darkness of the feelings that closed in on me when we got home from the hospital. Hormones...I hate you, and I am glad to see you go...don't let the door hit you in the butt on the way out (or do, I couldn't care less).