Let me be honest: I struggled with my toddler yesterday.
Her new teeth were cutting through, leaving her gums sore, while drool dripped onto every piece of furniture within reach. When she wasn’t preoccupied, her cries of discomfort seemed to echo for miles. Any attempt to distract her lasted only a few fleeting moments. Teaching her to walk felt akin to wrestling a baby seal—an exercise in futility. We watched in disbelief as she twisted and turned on the floor, flinging her head back and arching her back in ways that seemed impossible.
Taking her to an outdoor music concert was a poor choice. We hoped the fresh air would lift her spirits, but it quickly became clear that the crowd, enticing smells of snacks, and loud bluegrass music were overwhelming. Her stubbornness led her to the bottom of the mini-amphitheater steps, where she began her relentless climb, one step at a time. Each step became a canvas for dirt and debris, adorning her little body with remnants of the day.
When we finally had to end her exhausting escapade, her displeasure was palpable. Getting her into the stroller was a two-person operation; one of us had to physically restrain her while the other secured her in. As we made our way out, we couldn’t help but feel the weight of judgment from onlookers, their stares boring into our backs.
The car ride was no better. It felt like an all-out brawl in the backseat as we wrestled with the car seat. But just five minutes later, silence fell over her, and her eyes fluttered shut, her peaceful face leaning against the window. I found myself shedding tears—tears of frustration, fear of being a bad mom, and sheer exhaustion. I wrestled with dark thoughts: Did I hate motherhood? Was having a child a mistake?
Yet, despite these irrational feelings, my love for her remains infinite. I can’t imagine my life without her. Still, at the end of days like those, I long for my pre-kid life—where nights were filled with music and adult conversations were uninterrupted. I found myself questioning our decision to have children, and guilt washed over me for those selfish thoughts.
Today, however, was a complete turnaround. She woke up cheerful, giggling, and ready to take on the day. She brushed her teeth without fuss and played contentedly in her playpen. Getting her dressed and in the car was a breeze. Today, she waved “Hi!” with a cuteness that melted my heart.
Our dinner was a serene affair; she enjoyed her grilled cheese and corn while my husband and I engaged in actual conversation. It was a reminder of why we chose to bring her into our lives. Her smile lit up the room, and her laughter during bath time was contagious. We shared moments of pure joy, laughing together just inches apart.
Today reinforced my belief in my ability to be a mother. I may not be the same person I was a couple of years ago, but I am a better version of myself—filled with more patience and love. Surviving another day with a toddler asserting her independence is a testament to my growth. I am a role model for this precious little girl, and she depends on me for her happiness and security.
While not every day will be smooth or even bearable, I’ve learned to embrace the struggles and push through the tough times. I allowed myself to feel the frustration, then picked myself up to face a new day. I anticipate more challenging days ahead, but I know that the joy will ultimately outweigh the hardships.
So, while yesterday was difficult, today reminded me of the beauty in motherhood. After a good night’s rest, I woke up rejuvenated and ready to tackle whatever comes next.
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In summary, motherhood is a rollercoaster of emotions, but each challenging day can lead to a beautiful one. The love I have for my child is unwavering, and through the ups and downs, I find strength and joy in this journey.