Second time’s a charm

It’s true what they say – experience counts for a lot. Being a mother a second time around, I am enjoying the process a lot more. Sure, I did some extensive research before Tru was born; gathering reading material, birthing videos, getting advice from other moms, but none of those really prepared me for the real thing. I remember during the first month postpartum, I was on the verge of breaking down countless times. I had no idea what to do with a screaming baby and motherhood was way too overwhelming. To be honest, there were days that I just wanted to run away and hide under a small rock in Disneyland. All I could think of everyday was OH GOD PLEASE LET THIS END.

Then against my better judgment, I went out and did it again. This time around, it’s been dare I say it, almost enjoyable. Thanks to the blasted hormones, the blues were inevitable, but it seems to have subsided somewhat and I feel stronger than I ever did. Even though it’s much crazier with 2 in the picture, I’m somehow managing to stay afloat and still take a gander at the scenery along the way. Granted, I swallow a few gulps of water here and there, but I ain’t drowning yet.

Like yesterday, I was expressing my milk while running after the two kids and in the process spilt an entire bottle of milk. It’s not that big a deal and it’s probably happened to many mothers but it’s the kind of thing that makes you lose it a little bit. I just stood there for half a minute trying to take deep breaths and count to ten, all the while thinking of all the expletives to describe the situation. You know like this episode of Friends, where Phoebe let out a whole string of profanities in slow mo (see below). But I looked at the kids looking at me and I let out a giant sigh, wiped up the spilt milk and carried on with my day.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68U7SAFsaEM

The point is that on any given day, my life is made up of moments. The good and the bad, sometimes happening all at once. The best thing to do is to just roll with it and not sweat the small stuff. No breast milk, there’s always formula and one feed less isn’t going to hurt. If the house is in a mess, that’s fine. The kids are screaming, they’ll get over it. Just roll with the punches.

And when you least expect it, you get a moment that makes you stop and smile and go all fuzzy inside. A moment kinda like this.