To that tired mom staring off into space, finding herself questioning every life decision she has ever made — I see you.
To the moms who traded in their Type-A careers to stay at home and raise the kids they have brought into the world. To the moms who once navigated the challenges of the workplace with effortless calm and precision, but now are grappling with the often irrational whims and moods of infants and toddlers — I see you.
To the fiercely independent babes who once backpacked alone and swung off to solo adventures in their previous lives, who now find themselves planning virtually every nook of their day to day around what may least trigger their kids to be uncomfortable or unruly — I see you.
To the fellow moms taking a rare, peaceful break from the insanity on the exceptional moment that none of the kids need to be consoled, fed or changed at this singular point in time — here’s to us.
May we survive (as we always try to do), and still be happy with whatever version of ourselves we find once we finally stop grasping for air, and are finally just able to breathe.
It’s 10 am and at arm’s reach is my newly-opened bottle of (alcohol-free) Corona beer (it’s been a whirlwind week, so cut me some slack). The only other times I could remember when I would think that beer this early would be a good idea are, (1) when I’m lounging on the beach while on vacation, and (2) when I’m killing time on a layover at the airport. I couldn’t help but think of this tweet:
Now that this tweet’s stuck in my head, I also couldn’t ignore all the other ways this stay-at-home-with-an-infant life is so similar to how I’ve usually acted in airport terminals. For example:
- I don’t care if it’s dirty, I’m going to wear the most comfortable pair of shorts I own. Like every single day.
- Time passes as I’m on a sleepless daze, just waiting for the moment that somebody announces that it’s time to board now (yay!) and I could finally pass out and doze off in my airplane seat.
- One of my fears is my phone running out of battery, so I’m always on the lookout for a chance to charge (if you’ve ever been held hostage by a sleeping baby on your lap, then you probably feel this one).
- A lot of time is spent just sitting, sitting while dreaming of all the productive things I could have been doing.
- At some point, I lose track of what time and/or day it is, and I don’t know whether I should have a beer or coffee.
Anything else to add to the list? 🙂
When I first became a mom, I found myself often mourning the loss of my old self, of my old freedoms. I guess it’s quite common — unless you have an extra pair of hands to watch over your kid, you’ll find yourself saying goodbye to impromptu trips to the mall, sports events, the gym, anywhere where it may be overwhelming to try to do your own thing but at the same time, give your full attention to a small child.
Continue reading “All The Difference”
It’s every flyer’s dreaded sight: that parade of babies through the priority boarding queue, threatening to crush any dream of peaceful sleep during the flight. I confess, I used to cringe whenever I would see a family with a baby settling within a 10-row radius from my seat.
Now, I find myself on the other side, the bringer of the ominous boarding infant. I braced myself long and hard, and obsessed with every detail to prepare ourselves for Tobias’ first long-haul flight. I even dressed him up in an adorable tiger onesie, to make it at least a bit impossible to stay angry even if he makes a scene. Continue reading “Lessons Learned From Our Baby’s First Long-Haul Flight”