What I’ve Learned After 2.5 Years As a Mom
Last week marked exactly two and a half years since my daughter was born. In this short period, Bebe has blown through an unbelievable amount of milestones, which I am so proud of. She went from being a tiny newborn to a three-foot-tall toddler who can speak in full, eloquent sentences. Before now, I didn’t expect to be able to have little conversations with my two-year-old and I am pleasantly surprised.
When I was pregnant with Bebe, I seriously thought I would be pregnant forever. Time could not have crawled by more slowly. I was dying to never be pregnant again (because it sucked, at least for me). Now, it seems silly to have wished for time to go by any faster when it already passes us by so quickly. I already get a lump in my throat thinking about my daughter eventually graduating from high school (and beyond).
Every single day, I am amazed and surprised by my daughter’s capabilities. I know I’ll never have this whole motherhood thing completely nailed down, but here are a few things I’ve learned so far:
These are the good old days. When I look at older mothers with their adult children, I remind myself that they were once a young mother and a small child. It’s not always easy to imagine, but it helps me hold on tighter to the present moment with my toddler. There’s going to come a day when all of this is going to be behind us, and it’s so important to enjoy this time while I still have it.
Every stage of childhood is wonderful. Although little babies get the most hype (understandably), I’ve noticed that the cuteness doesn’t decrease as kiddos get older… the cuteness just changes. Although my baby isn’t an infant anymore, watching her learn and grow hasn’t become any less magical. And I imagine that even when she’s a fully grown adult, I will still look at her in awe as she learns how to navigate life.
Your daughter will nearly always prefer her dad (and it’s absolutely fine). There’s nothing better I could have given my daughter than a father who is present and loves her unconditionally. I adore the bond that my daughter and my husband have, even if it means I get brushed to the side sometimes.
You’re more capable than you think you are. Before motherhood, I had no confidence in my ability to do pretty much anything. I felt like an oversized little kid, so confused about how life works and what I should be doing next. Motherhood forced me to focus, grow up, and realize that the world is much bigger than me.
Although you are very capable, village is everything. Even the best mom out there will agree that parenthood is hard. It’s insane to try to do everything yourself, so it would be wise to accept whatever help you can get from your trusted family members and friends. I have been fortunate to have multiple family members that I trust with my daughter, along with a reliable husband to split parental duties with. Parents who do it all by themselves are superheroes.
You are incredibly important. It’s blaringly obvious how much of a role a parent plays in their child’s life, but it wasn’t until I became a mom that I realized how true that is. Your child is only going to get one of you, and you can never truly be replaced. Your child’s memory of you is going to outlive you by several decades. Keeping that in mind, it’s important not to abuse the importance of the role you have in your child’s life. This abuse often comes in the form of guilt-tripping, a common tactic by narcissistic parents. “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone,” “You’ll never make it without me,” or “You’re lucky I put with you.” Constantly throwing in your child’s face just how important you are will surely fracture your relationship with them.
You’re going to stop caring what others think of you as a mother/father. For the first year of Bebe’s life, I was obsessed with being a “good mother” and making sure people knew it. One of my fears at the time was being perceived as a “deadbeat” mom, even though I was constantly present in my daughter’s life, with the only exception being when I went to work. But nonetheless, I was convinced that if I wasn’t doing everything, then I was doing nothing. This black-and-white thinking was a trademark of my postpartum life.
You’re going to stop getting caught up in how others raise their children (for the most part).I’m never going to stop sympathizing with children who are abused, or are otherwise mistreated by their caregivers. But, other than extreme cases, I have learned to mind my own business and not feel sorry for every child who is not being raised the way that I see fit. There are a lot of “right” ways to raise a child, not just my way.
XOXO, Alexis.