My son is 11 months old today.
In just one month he will no longer be a baby, but a toddler. I can already see it. When he crawls around his body looks more like a little boy body than a little baby body.
He already said his first words: Hi Doggie.
We can talk to him and he understands us, and sometimes I’m convinced that he knows he’s disobeying us.
He has developed enough to be dangerous, but not enough to where he can sneak off on his own.
He’s 23 pounds, 99% for height, 70% for weight and 99% for head size.
It’s also been about 4 months since I re-entered the workforce. These are a few confessions that are true for my daily life.
1.) Sometimes I can’t wait to leave the house. When I know that the baby didn’t get enough sleep or will be cranky all day, I’m glad to go. I hate that, because I really do get sad when I kiss him goodbye, but I think every mom has moments when she would rather be somewhere else, anywhere else.
2.) While at work, I think about the time wasted. I wonder what milestones I’m missing, the hours that I’m not witnessing him grow up. Of course, what I’m doing is providing for him, but most of the time I feel like some sort of mother failure. Part of my job is to talk to moms on Twitter all day. Usually I talk to stay-at-home-moms who are having a rough go of it, and give them encouragement. This makes my heart break. I know that if I were in the same position I’d be just as frustrated, and I long to be in the same position.
3.) Sometimes I wish I had my lunch hour to myself. I go home at lunch, and see my son during that time. There have been several occasions when I just wanted to go to Target and browse by myself. Then I think about Confession #2, and I drive home – even if there is something I really, really need from Target.
4.) I wonder if he knows who I am. When I was at home and breastfeeding, there was no doubt who I was. I was Mommy, 100%. Now we’re not breastfeeding, and he sees me for about 3 hours everyday. What does that make me to him? Am I the one who carried him for 9 months, or am I no different than the volunteers at our congregation’s nursery?
5.) I wonder if I know who I am. When I am home, it feels more comfortable to let my husband take the lead with this parenting thing. It’s like I don’t know how to mom anymore. My spidey-senses are off. In fact, the only time when I feel completely confident is when he his hardcore teething. He’ll wake up crying about 11pm, and I’ll rock him until he calms down. It’s the one time when it feels like he just needs me, and I secretly love it.
They are only small for so long. Just doing my best to cling to each moment.