The other day as I was changing Carly, I had a good view of the inside of her nose. I noticed an obstruction (use your imagination) so what did I do? I got right in there and dug it out. Now if you would have told me five years ago,even a year ago that I would be doing something such as this, I would have given you a gagging reflux reaction. Now, I don't blink an eye, it's no big deal. I must be a mom. Sometimes it's hard to tell if Carly is wet or smelly. The best way to know is to lift her little bum and take a whiff. It's no big deal. Brent looks at me and asks how can I do that but gag when he does what men do. Its different I told him. I almost feel like a doctor seeing and doing what I do as it doesn't phase me. It comes along with the job of being a mom.
Since becoming a mom, I've been peed on five times, had spit up in my hair and on most every shirt (sometimes even down to my underwear). I've also gotten my hands dirty(if you know what I mean) and Blow-outs are called Blow Outs for a reason.
I grew up needing eight, nine, ten, and sometimes even more hours of sleep. If you did not let me rest, I was a bear. That is all past tense now as I only get (maybe if I am lucky) four to five hours of sleep straight in one night, after that, it is all down hill. Surprisingly, I am still happy and with only one cup of coffee! My grumpy bear goes away when she looks at me and smiles.
B.M.-(Before Mommyhood), I always had to have a new outfit for any exciting event and wouldn't be seen by anyone or in public without hair, make-up, and nails to par before heading out of the house. Now I don't care if you come over and I am in my pjs or when leaving the house will even wear my sweats over my pj's with a stocking cap if I REALLY don't care that day. I don't have time to worry anymore if people will judge me about how I look. When at the store, we never can make it out without something in the cart for Carly-even though I haven't made a purchase for clothes in almost a year for myself.
I love sitting on the floor with Carly and listening to nursery rhyme songs, singing at the top of my voice "Wheels on the Bus", reading Dr. Suess, and playing with "Sophie" the sqeaky giraffe.
while these activities may not sound very grown up, I think I may have indeed "grown up". I've learned its not about me anymore.Its about my little smiley, loveable, (sometimes dirty and stinkable), adorable Carly. I must be a mom.
