It took just one day home from the hospital with our 1st born to show me that all my cotton candy visions needed to be chucked out the window.
Frequently, I have to do a check and balance of this motherhood gig. What is my purpose? Am I doing okay or I am a total failure?
Tough days make me question what being a mother is all about even more.
Don't get me wrong. Though there are many special moments like reading favorite stories together at bedtime, baking chocolate chip cookies, and celebrating special occasions that make my motherhood title bold and proud, I know it is much more than that.
This week, being a mother means throw up buckets and Gatorade.
It means looking like a train wreck. Um, do you see my "fine" lines?
(in all my sick kid glory)
So what if my unrealistic expectations vs. reality of motherhood have crashed head on? Does it change my definition of motherhood?
I suggest that it defines me even greater as a mother since motherhood is a journey filled with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.
Like me, you may ask, was it supposed to be like this?
All of it.