Me: Is there anything that I do in my daily or weekly activities that makes you look at me and go, “Wow, she is one hot bitch”?

Husband: In your daily or weekly activities??

Me: Yea.

Husband: Does that even sound like me?

Me: Okay, is there anything that I do that makes you go, “She’s so HAWT”??

Husband: I don’t understand the context. Where is this coming from? *squinty-eyed* What trap are you setting up for me??

…

Smart man, or otherwise?  I know what I think.

This may turn out to be one of those highly-emotional-super-motherly posts.  You’ve been warned.

I may not be a fantastic homemaker.  Ok, I’m most definitely not even CLOSE to fantastic homemaker.  I don’t decorate.  I don’t iron.  I don’t do dishes.  I don’t apologize for my messy home when I have visitors.  I used to care, but I don’t anymore.  I do clean, but not to keep up appearances.  I clean because if I don’t, my very mobile baby will swallow anything that’s on the floor.  I clean because it keeps him safe.  Every morning I sweep the floors; every other day I vacuum the living room and the hallway; his highchair gets disinfected after every meal.  And still the little bugger manages to find things on the floor and sticks it  in his mouth.  I do cook.  I do bake.  I do enjoy some domestic things like cooking and baking.

I probably sound like I’m not enjoying myself.  Truth is, I’m living my dream.  I’ve never had a career in mind, never wanted to be a {fill in the blank} when I grew up.  But I’ve always wanted to be a mother.

I love every day of my life because of my little man.  And I try so hard to not miss anything, to hold on to him a bit longer because he will too soon grow out of my arms, to rock him to sleep every night because he’s comfy that way.

I know too many parents that leave their babies crying in their cribs because otherwise, “they won’t learn to fall asleep on their own”.  G-monk’s pediatrician told us at our 4-month Wellness appointment that, “we still have time to snip bad sleeping habits in the bud”, as if there is a time limit.  He suggested we let him cry it out.  And if we don’t?  What, he will never sleep on his own?  He’ll be 30 and still want mommy to snuggle him and kiss him to sleep?  I told one of my neighbors that G-monk still wakes once or twice a night, she gasped!  ”How are you functioning??  So do you still nap with him??  Have you tried the binky?”  First off, it’s called a pacifier.  Truth is I gave birth to a teeny adult.  My son HATES this thing called a pacifier, or anything baby-related for that matter.  My neighbor is the kind that lets her baby cry in her crib, her baby is the kind that takes a “binky” and falls asleep on her own and sleeps for 10 hours every night, since the tender age of 3 months!!!  I don’t mean to sound judgmental, really, but bragging about letting a tiny baby scream for her mommy just sounds cruel to me.  However, I do understand that her sleeping arrangement works for her.  She has 4 kids, and she is a nurse.  So, it’s hard for me to sit here and say that I wouldn’t want or do the same thing if I was in her situation.  Do I wish G-monkey would sleep for 12 hours every night?  SURE!  But honestly, I enjoy putting him to bed.  I enjoy when he wakes up because I miss him.  I love that he snuggles into me.  That I’m his soft place.  That he can sleep so peacefully, so soundly, so beautifully in my arms.  I love that he knows mommy will be there to hold him when he needs me.  I need him to know that.  I told my neighbor it was easy for me to be OK with a baby who didn’t sleep through the night because he was my only job.  It’s true.  If I had a career, or a paying job, I might care about getting my 8 hours of sleep every night.  But I’m so fulfilled in ways I couldn’t even begin to explain.

There’s guilt though.

At G-monkey’s last Wellness, the pediatrician {Dr. Coexist} asked how he was sleeping.  The truth: He sleeps for 10 hours, wakes up once maybe twice to eat, goes right back to sleep,  I nurse him to sleep at 8PM goes to the crib and then around 1AM comes into bed with me for the rest of the night — there it is.  What I answered:  He’s doing good! {guiltguiltguilt}

I don’t know why I feel guilty about this.  I guess I’m afraid of him saying that we need to stop co-sleeping, now!  Stop nursing to sleep, now!  Stop enabling his bad! bad! behavior, now!  That I’m a bad! bad! mommy, and shame on me for doing what I think is best for him!  However, even if he did say these things, even if I left that office crying, head hanging in shame, and drove home with a heavily inadequate-feeling heart I wouldn’t change a damn thing, except doctors.  I’m proud that I get to wake up to my little man crawling all over me.  That I get to snuggle and cuddle with him while I sleep. That if I don’t smell his sweet breath, I pull him closer so I that I can breath him in.  Maybe I’m the one with the bad sleeping habits, because truthfully I sleep better when his little head is on my cheek.  It took me a long time to be OK with our sleeping arrangements, and an even longer time to share it with folks and be OK with their judgement  hanging over their lips.  A good sleeper should not equal an excellent parent.

I don’t envy these folks.  I don’t envy their 10 hours of sleep.  I’ve never complained about how many times G-monkey wakes up at night, and they probably don’t envy me either.  But they should.  Because I haven’t missed a single moment.  Not one.  And that, my friends, makes me an excellent mother.