When my partner, Jake, agreed to have a baby with me, I was taken aback. Maybe I shouldn’t have been; after all, we had settled on a girl’s name—Lily—back when we were just four months into our relationship. The name? Inspired by a character from a movie we loved, not that we wanted to make her a role model or anything!
Even with a name chosen, I was still surprised by how quickly he said yes to starting a family. Perhaps it was the context: I was lounging in bed, wearing pajamas and snacking on chips, while a mountain of dishes loomed in the sink. I definitely didn’t look like the serene, composed person I imagined I’d need to be before he’d agree to bring a child into the world. Honestly, I resembled an overly mature teenager more than a responsible adult.
I’m a bit of a paradox when it comes to getting things done. When I want to achieve something, I dive in headfirst with wild enthusiasm. But the mundane chores? They languish indefinitely. If I were to take over a kingdom, I’d do it swiftly and with grace. However, I’d be that ruler with a laundry pile that could rival a small hill.
When our daughter arrived, we wisely chose not to name her Lily, despite how much we loved the name. Now that we have her, I often find myself second-guessing our other choices. We’ve become better at tackling the dishes, and our laundry situation? Well, it’s not as precarious as it once was.
Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m merely pretending to be a mom. When she pulls off a new trick or acts out a bit, it’s a struggle to hold back laughter. There are nights I wish she wouldn’t go to bed just yet because we’re having a blast, but then there are those moments when I desperately want her to sleep so I can enjoy some “me time” without the chaos of cleaning up after dinner.
I always thought motherhood would transform me into someone who was disconnected from pop culture and chaos, but surprise! I’m still me, wandering around in pajamas at 4 PM and sneaking glimpses of fun shows instead of watching the usual kid-friendly fare. I’ll admit, I’ve felt guilty about not sharing who the latest celebrity disaster is, so I often choose to dance around the room instead. But let’s be real; I’m not always thrilled about that, and I still struggle with how and when to discipline her.
Despite reading countless parenting books, none have revealed the ultimate secret to being a parent. Most days, I’m just relying on instinct, winging it like a pro. Somehow, I’m the designated adult, even though I still feel like a five-year-old most days.
So, it makes me wonder: Were our parents also just putting on a show? I have a sneaking suspicion they were, and the way my mom laughs at my parenting missteps just reinforces that belief.
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