Somewhere between Rae sticking her finger as far up my nose as it would go while pulling my hair and Little S sticking his hand in his pants and proclaiming “Yikes. I pooped.” I found myself asking the age-old question “WHAT HAPPENED?”
It’s still so incredibly strange to think that 3 years ago I was finding myself wild and in love, then pregnant and unwed at 20. There was no training. No one really warned me what it was going to be like. I wish someone had just pulled me aside and said, “There will be poop. Poop EVERYWHERE. And you’re going to constantly smell like moldy cottage cheese. And sometimes, if not every day, you’ll cry for no reason.”
I’m ill-equipped. I remember leaving the hospital with a very tiny Little S in my arms and my new husband by my side. After 2 days in the hospital they wheeled me out like it was no big deal. I really wanted to ask if they knew what they were doing, because no one in their right mind would trust ME with this tiny human.
I’m a failure.
I’ve been a failure since day 1.
I wasn’t married when I got pregnant.
I haven’t finished college just yet.
My kids drive my nuts some days.
I get frustrated.
And I’m tired.
I just want to be 22 some days.
I want to spend time with Big S.
And I want to be selfish.
I don’t want to change 16 diapers a day.
I wish I didn’t have to share my brownies.
I forget to do dishes.
And I ignore the baskets of laundry.
And sometimes, I just send Big S to put the kids to bed by himself.
And these kids-
These kids deserve way better than me.
I fail them every day.
But then this morning, he looked at me
“Mommy, let’s cuddle”, he pleads as he climbs into my lap.
“Mommy, I need you”, he says.
And every doubt that I had melts away.
It melts like the chocolate on top of my brownies that I don’t want to share.
If I’m good enough for him, then I’m good enough for anything.