This morning I got up and slid into my favorite pair of sweatpants after feeding Micah a bottle. “I’m ready for battle with these babies on,” I think to myself. I threw on a t-shirt that I knew would last me half the day, ugh who am I kidding? It would maybe last an hour before…well, we’ll get there. I glanced in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. Perfect. Zombie mom is back. I had been up til 4am snuggling my baby while he struggled through his tummy issues.
I heard my toddler from her crib and ran downstairs to start her breakfast. I glanced at the high chair. Ew what is on the tray? Let’s clean that up. Ew, what did she squish into the seat. Clean that up too. I probably need to take a blow torch to the dining room and kitchen right now…What was I doing? Right, hungry kiddos. Run back up, change both diapers, and carry them back down, fumbling with the baby gate so Kaia wouldn’t sprint back upstairs and start the trip over again.
What was I doing again? Right. Breakfast. Focus. Oatmeal is too hot, put it in the freezer for a couple of minutes. But Kaia is ready for food now…hm pantry! “Que quieres? How about a fiber one lemon bar?” I open it and hand it to her. But shes already got a spoon in hand and saw something she can eat with it. It ends up on our table next to last nights dinner crumbs. Oatmeal should be good now…where is it again? Ok, so its not in the microwave…its not in the fridge…and I didn’t set it on the counter…what did I do with it?? “Sorry Kaia, its coming! Mami just has to find it first!” That’s right, the freezer!
She’s been in her high chair too long without food. She wants out. I’ve mastered the art of one-handed high chair maneuvers. Shes out, but still hungry. Like her mom, she’s a social eater, and wants company at the table. “Mama up!” I lift her into the seat. “Poppy? Poppy. Poppy!” I turn on the movie Trolls for her. Like her dad, she likes to have entertainment while she eats. Eating. Right I should probably eat something too. I grab a protein shake because healthy right? And shake off the crumbs from the lemon bar, creating more crumbs in the process. I really need to clean the table, dining room, kitchen…
Micah starts to wail. How is it time for another bottle already? Where did I put the formula? Did I bring it back down? Why can’t I find it? “Sorry Micah, its coming! Mami just has to find it first!” Ah the pantry! I’ll just open a new container. Scarf what I can, make the bottle, feed the baby. Kaia doesn’t feel like oatmeal anymore after eating half of it. “Pan? Pan. Mami, PAN!!” She starts to cry, I grab a piece of bread and toss it to her. “Mama, uvas?” I get up again, and Micah starts to whine as the bottle leaves his mouth. Grab some grapes and hand her the bowl. She’s too skinny. She’s getting taller and taller, but hasn’t gained any weight since her first birthday. I feed her what she asks for, within reason, of course.
Micah spits up all over me. There goes the shirt. Within the hour. And its not getting changed unless I have to go in public. Sometimes ain’t nobody got time for that even. Micah finishes his bottle and has a poopy diaper. Kaia is rubbing her eyes after shoving the rest of her grapes in my mouth. She smiles at her brother and gives him a kiss. My heart melts. I love them. “Kaia let’s go upstairs! Micah needs a diaper change!” She happily climbs the stairs, and runs around grabbing what she can off counters while I change the diaper. “You need a nap missy.” I pick her up, tell her “te amo” as I tuck her in her crib. She gives me a sleepy smile as I turn to walk away. Gosh I love her!
Micah and I head back downstairs. Ahh some rest. I sit down on the couch. Micah starts to fuss. His tummy is still a little uncomfortable, and for him to sit still he needs his bink. Get back up, wander around the whole first floor. Where did I put it? I seriously thought I brought one downstairs last night…run back up. There it is, next to our bed…sprint back down just in time for snuggles. Crisis evaded. Another sleepy baby smile followed by…more spit up all over my shirt. Lovely. I smile back and tell him I love him as I clean us up and his eyes become heavy.
My journey in motherhood is many things. I dare say glamorous is rarely one of them. There’s always someone else’s chewed up food, someone else’s spit up, and someone else’s poop. But there’s also someone else’s tears, someone else’s smiles, and someone else’s hugs. That’s just it. Its not about me. Its about those tiny, sweet someone elses who need me. Who teach me so much about what it means to love and be loved ❤