Putting Baby to Bed

May 8, 2016

Dear Baby,

Mother’s Day is winding down and night is here. I’m writing you this sitting in your room holding you and trying to get you to sleep… for the third time tonight. 

This is the truth about being a mom. There are flowers and brushes and chocolate chip cookies from Epi but nothing is more “mom” then dealing with a overtired baby who won’t sleep on your “special day.”

At the end if the day – any day – even Mother’s Day you are just that, a mom and for better or worse it’s a job that gives no fucks at all what day it is. 

There are no holidays or breaks and no awards for being patient and letting your baby fall asleep on you before quietly trying to transfer them to the crib but missing the mark and having to repeat it again.

There is no reason that any day should be different than the others- birthdays, constructed Hallmark holidays. They may all be wonderful or awful depending on how things unfold. 

This means that every day is special and unspecial all in one. It makes the job of being you a very hard one but a very great one and it takes he romance out of these bullshit days that are meant to make people feel good but usually make them feel bad. 

The lesson is this: celebrate being you and the jobs you have every day. One day will be more glamorous than the next but every day you are just killing it by being yourself, getting up and doing you. Life is both SO FUN and so not fun and while rocking a cranky baby to sleep for the bagillionth time is a less fun moment, making her laugh by dancing her around the room to Snoop Dogg makes up for it in strides.

In the meantime, it’s wine-o-clock. Wait, I mean grape juice. Yes… grape juice. 



Putting Baby to Bed

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