My son ate grass

My almost 10 month old son ate grass the other day.  I had taken him and the puppy outside to get some photos in his cute outfit.  Sat him in the grass.  Next thing I knew, he swallowed it.

Yep, mother of the year right here.

Not.

No harm done.  He was fine - good fiber, right?!  Haha.

I'm sure there are some people who are just ease into motherhood, without even missing a step. I am/was not one of them.

While I was pregnant I knew that I would have some trouble with the motherhood thing.

I'm a selfish person.  Very selfish.

For so long I was single.  I could do what I wanted, when I wanted, without answering to anyone.  Single life had its perks at time.

Then Doug came along.  Some of my selfishness went away with marriage... but I still had plenty left.

So I worried while I was pregnant.  I had so wanted to be a mother... to have a baby... for Doug to be a father... for so long, but I was still TERRIFIED.  I knew that I was selfish and ill prepared for motherhood.

I knew that I would be able to physically take care of a child (I thought!), but would I want to all the time?  I got annoyed when Daisy needed to go outside at 3am, what was I going to do when I had to be up all night with a baby?!?  I like my sleep!

I mean, I like kids and all.  I do admit, sometimes I was glad to leave the kids I was around at their house, while I went home to my hubby and my dog.  Or I went to the gym.  Or I would go shopping.  Or really do anything I wanted because I was not responsible for a tiny human being.  I was on my own schedule and I loved it.

So I worried that I would feel the same way about my baby.  I knew deep down that I wouldn't ... that I would love love love love love my baby, but I was still worried.

Turns out it was OK to be worried.  It was probably even a good thing.  It made me really start the process of becoming less selfish, of dying to self.

That's what motherhood has done for me.

It makes me constantly die.  In a good way.  But it is still hard.

I had to really let go of a lot of my selfishness in those first few weeks of motherhood.  There's nothing like a 7 pound baby that can make you feel like the most inadequate person on the face of the earth.  Those little ones can really knock you down.

Those first few weeks were like boot camp for dying to self.

Sleep?  Nah.  That didn't happen much.  When it did it was very short lived.  Oh how I just wanted to sleep.  I swear I dreamed of sleep when I was sleeping.

My boobs?  Those weren't mine anymore.  They belonged to George (and my pump!).  The tiny little man  gave my boobs a run for their money - with more nipple infections that I can count.  Yep, all part of dying to self boot camp.

My own schedule?  Nope.  Heck, I couldn't even pee without timing it with a nap or something.  I mean... when did I ever in my life have to plan to pee or take a baby into the bathroom with me??  Never.  That was a change.

So that was my entrance into motherhood.  It was pretty much what I expected.  Totally wonderful and absolutely petrifying all at the same time.

I would cry happy wonderful tears because he was such a beautiful handsome human being.   And I would cry tears of pure exhaustion because I didn't think I could physically and mentally go on.

But I did and now I'm almost 10 months into this crazy journey.   Each day, each new challenge is just a reminder that I need to die to self.

I do have a few things back.

Sleep and my boobs.

I do sleep less nowadays than before George, but more than in those first exhausting months.  Even when I do sleep, I tend to check the monitor to make sure that he is OK.  I luckily can get by on little sleep, even though I truly do LOVE to sleep and I LOVE just being in bed.  Heck, I'm tying this in bed (while the monitor is right by me so I can see my little guy).

My boobs are back.  My nipples have healed and while I sag more than I did and George still has a funny obsession with my shirt and trying to rip it off, my boobs are kinda back.

My schedule?  Heck, I don't think I will ever be able to claim that again.  Motherhood is a 24/7 job.  That is something that I'm still learning.  Over and over again.  It does not end at 7pm when he goes to bed.  Haha.  But it is OK.  I still pee with a baby in the bathroom and I'm sure that will go on for years.  Haha.

There have been ups and downs in my learning that I can't do things like I did them before.  There are nap times and feeding times that I have to think about now.  And bedtime for my baby!  Maybe I can't run all my errands all around down with a baby in the back seat and expect him to be perfectly happy.  Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.  Maybe I can get to the gym or go on a walk and maybe I can't on a certain day.  I just try to go with the flow and learn from every little victory and mishap.  All part of dying to self.

It is all part of knowing that it is not about me anymore.  It is about doing whatever and making sacrifices, while celebrating and having great joy, too... all to get this little boy to heaven.  No pressure or anything, right?

Is it working?  I think so.  I have my good days and bad.  I have my ups and downs.  I have times when I look at my sweet boy and just praise God.  I have times when I don't want to praise God -- when I have to get up at 3am.  But I do.  I'm might not be happy about getting up at 3am... but I am happy and grateful that I get to do that.  I think it's making me a better person.

George is seriously one of the happiest babies I have ever been around.  He is healthy and a pure joy that everyone loves.  He makes me constantly praise God for the miracle of my son.  He makes me less selfish.  He makes me die to self.

So, I must be doing something right -- even if he eats some grass once in a while.  :)