The Good, The Bad, & MY Ugly

I think many of us envisioned what being a mom would be like. This beautiful bundle of joy that we would cherish and love. Those little hands and feet that we would caress. Those adorable cheeks that we would kiss and kiss and kiss. Don't forget that wonderful smile and giggle.

From the very beginning of both of my pregnancies, I had a wonderful experience and was overjoyed. Of course, there was the weight gain, the cravings, the weird things that would go on with my body that no book could come close to describing. I tried to cherish each pregnancy regardless.

The funny thing about Mother Nature is that she hypnotizes us with all these precious little things our baby does that it makes us develop amnesia. I guess if we remembered the pain of child birth, the lack of sleep, and the many other things that occur, we would be a dying species.

Yes, I did fall immediately in love with my children the moment they were placed in my arms. The love has just grown and grown. *happy music starts to play in the background, flowers and rainbows appear*

Now it's time for MY ugly. My personal confession. I hate to even admit to this, but I thought I'd share. After reading numerous books on the joys of being a mother, I never came across anyone that ever stated any real negativity to it.

Prior to having children, I will admit that I had very little patience and I was very much consumed with ME. Having children has definitely changed my level of patience and how little me time there is. I feel that 95% of my life revolves around the kids. This is a rough estimate, of course. I'm sure you get the idea of what I'm saying. Especially since they are so young, 3 and 1, they are so dependent upon me. I knew this part prior to having them. I definitely didn't expect them to be self-sufficient beings right from the get go.

There are moments when I absolutely dislike being a mom. Yes, I said it. Yes, there is still a feeling of guilt, but it's the truth. At first, I felt truly guilty to having these feelings. I felt I wasn't being a good mother. Maybe there was something wrong with my motherly wiring. Maybe, maybe, maybe it's just the truth. Regardless, I know that I'm a good mom. I love my children, but I don't love every single minute I have with them.

There are the drives when all I can hear is the stereo sound of the two of them crying and fighting in the background. Moments when all I'm trying to do is go use the bathroom and one, if not both of them, are in there with me. The tantrums over, literally, spilled milk. The lack of patience that drives me nuts. The sound of me asking the 3 year old to do something over and over again. There are the times when the sound of, "Mama" or "Mommy", actually brings a tension down my neck and back because the tone of it is done in just that way. The way the 1 year old is on me like white on rice and all I need is to have a moment without anyone in my bubble. I can go on and on.

Deep down, I enjoy my 1 hour of alone time at the gym. My hour of just sweating and working out my inner aggressions of life. I do enjoy it when my husband comes home from work early and I am no longer out numbered by the kids. I like the end of the day when both kids are quietly sleeping and my personal bubble is unoccupied. I enjoy getting my hair done where I can sit quietly and read tabloid/beauty magazines and hope the hair dresser is not in a chatty mood. Yes, these are some of my deep down guilty pleasures.

Maybe that's also why Mother Nature has developed unconditional love. A love that can withstand anything. A love that causes all the bad aspects to be overlooked. A love so deep that it's indescribable. Unconditional love has to be what I have for these two because I definitely wouldn't be able to put up with them if it wasn't.