People seem to get nostalgic about a lot of things they weren't so crazy about the first time around.
----Author unknown
There are many things I miss about when my children were babies.....
Like their sweet coos, holding them in my arms for hours, rocking them to sleep, nursing them, seeing their innocent smiles.
But when I really think back, and if I wrote it as honestly as it was when I lived it, it would be like this--
Like their sweet coos .....but not that newborn baby mew that wouldn't stop no matter what I did.
holding them in my arms for hours....as long as I had pillows on each side to bolster my elbows.
rocking them to sleep....when they fell asleep within 10 minutes but not when I couldn't set them down without them instantly start squawking again.
nursing them....once my nipples healed up after 12 long weeks and until the kids started biting.
seeing their innocent smiles....which often were the precursor of spit-up all over my lap.
The same thing goes with every stage they've been through thus far. Some of it is brilliant, but a whopping buttload of is it sometimes miserable and often challenging and makes a person want to pull her hair out.
I don't want to remember all the bullshit. All the tears and tantrums and how many times have I had to wipe this kid's butt over the past 6 years and when will the butt-wiping cease to be part of my job duties????
Because of this reality and because of my personality, it makes me want to scream whenever I read or hear people talk about their children's childhood like it is one big ice cream sundae of wonderful.
In my head I think to myself, "They are not being real and honest."
But I guess they are.
It is simply that my worldview and attitude and personality are so different from theirs that is just seems to me that they aren't being real. That they are lying or just trying to drive me crazy with their optimistic vision of life.
What they experience and express is very much real to them.
It is simply a foreign concept to me.
----Author unknown
There are many things I miss about when my children were babies.....
Like their sweet coos, holding them in my arms for hours, rocking them to sleep, nursing them, seeing their innocent smiles.
But when I really think back, and if I wrote it as honestly as it was when I lived it, it would be like this--
Like their sweet coos .....but not that newborn baby mew that wouldn't stop no matter what I did.
holding them in my arms for hours....as long as I had pillows on each side to bolster my elbows.
rocking them to sleep....when they fell asleep within 10 minutes but not when I couldn't set them down without them instantly start squawking again.
nursing them....once my nipples healed up after 12 long weeks and until the kids started biting.
seeing their innocent smiles....which often were the precursor of spit-up all over my lap.
The same thing goes with every stage they've been through thus far. Some of it is brilliant, but a whopping buttload of is it sometimes miserable and often challenging and makes a person want to pull her hair out.
I don't want to remember all the bullshit. All the tears and tantrums and how many times have I had to wipe this kid's butt over the past 6 years and when will the butt-wiping cease to be part of my job duties????
Because of this reality and because of my personality, it makes me want to scream whenever I read or hear people talk about their children's childhood like it is one big ice cream sundae of wonderful.
In my head I think to myself, "They are not being real and honest."
But I guess they are.
It is simply that my worldview and attitude and personality are so different from theirs that is just seems to me that they aren't being real. That they are lying or just trying to drive me crazy with their optimistic vision of life.
What they experience and express is very much real to them.
It is simply a foreign concept to me.
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