That time when…you wake up with your second-born falling on your head and your first-born having his first shart.

I’m laughing right now as I reread the title of this post. I think that the fact that I did not consider once to change it is the funniest part. I laugh at this because my filters and modesty about life—in general—have completely grown their own sort of thick skin. I know I’m not the only mother to feel this way. It took becoming a mother (of two) to u-n-d-e-r-s-t-a-n-d (yes, I’m saying this slowly) that I just don’t care to invest as much time about what I think others are thinking of me anymore. I’ve always said that I am nervous about what others are thinking about me, but in trying to hold myself more accountable for my emotions, I’ve realized that it’s not others that I’m worried about, it’s myself. I don’t even give others a chance to judge me because I’ve already judged myself. I’m dropping that s-h-i-t—for now at least. Can you tell I’m sounding more like myself again? My morale is definitely feeling better. So, now that I’ve gone on a completely long tangent, let me get back to the original reason for this post.

The title. Yes, the title has me laughing because Z Nugg literally fell on my head today and woke me up. Head to head contact. To make a long story short, the Nuggs and I are house-sitting and our sleeping arrangement has Z up on a bed and me on the floor next to the bed. (Believe me, I weighed out all my options.) Z waking me up—we’re both fine—was followed by Little Nugget experiencing his first shart. My poor papas was so worried and flustered. I explained what had happened, cleaned him up, and all was well.

Now, the original ‘That time when…’ I had intended to write about before this morning happened was in celebration (again) of World Breastfeeding Week. (Please know that I share the joys of my journey to document for myself and simply share. NOT to boast or put any other method down.)

The original title was going to be, “That time when…your first-born is amazed in seeing another mom breastfeed.”

The Nuggets and I spent the day at the Huntington Library with my friend and her baby last week. During our lunch break, my friend took some time to nurse her baby. When Little Nugget noticed what my friend was doing, he jumped from his seat, walked over to her, and observed in pure amazement. My momma-heart exploded when I heard Little Nugget’s little voice ask my friend, “Do you have milk in your breasts too?!” He couldn’t believe it. He proudly explained to her that his mom—me obviously—has milk in her breasts too, which I use to feed his baby sister, Zion…and he continued to explain that he drank milk when he was a baby too.

::Taking a breather for my heart’s sake.::

It’s moments like these that I know I’m not all that bad—most of the time. Little Nugget’s reciprocation of conscious thinking and speaking serve me as proof that even though I’m not perfect, I’m still doing something right. I can’t expect to raise perfect human beings, but I can provide them with only the best of me, and I use this word vaguely because the definition will vary.

Cheers to keeping a light heart!

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