Mom. I cannot even BEGIN to tell you everything that has happened in these almost two months since Everett was born. But I can say that I have honestly thought about writing in here every single day. I think in my head like I’m talking to you–like when I have learned something about the baby, or when I have a question or when I’m utterly overwhelmed. Or when I realize I am a mother without a mother and I need you.

I cannot play catch up with the time lost–it would take forever and who knows how much time I have right now to talk. Everett is sleeping–for once in his little rocker and not in my arms–so I am going to savor these next few moments here with you and just talk about what’s going on now.

This blog never really had a direction– it was just journaling to you about my trials in life through relationships and trying to figure my shit out. And trying to patiently wait for marriage and a family. So I have deleted many old entries, allowing a fresh start with more purpose.

I feel like I have so much to share on motherhood, not just to you, but to other moms out there. Not because “I know everything”  (I literally know nothing and am only learning as I go), but just to share the honestly in it all and how freaking hard it can get. None of the books I read told me about the moments where I would be ass naked trying to bathe a screaming baby, while the dog comes in to check things out and takes up more space in my doll house sized bathroom. And then licks my bare butt, and goes downstairs to pee and poop on the kitchen floor because I hadn’t let him out all night or morning. Then I try to clean the shit off the floor, holding the baby of course, and the laundry buzzes downstairs, only to remind me that the clothes from yesterday are still in the dryer, begging to be folded so the next load can be done. And I kid you not, when I let Clifford outside, he got into a brawl with a groundhog.

That all literally happened in fifteen minutes this morning. And remember, there are 24 hours in a day, so there are a lot of frustrating fragments that get all bundled up, and by night I am so spent. Chris gets what is left over of me when he gets home from work and it’s never much. I’m so mean to him. I don’t know how he loves me so much.

In those hard moments I feel like my head will just pour out of my skull. That I can never catch up with housework, that I can never be nice enough to my dog (who gets screamed at on a daily basis) or to my husband and that I cannot do any of this for another day. And then Everett smiles at me and coos and I know that I would not dare wish to have any of it any other way.

I know I am telling you things you know. And you are probably so happy that I have finally realized you literally made my life in every way possible. I cannot BELIEVE I ever told you that the only thing you did for me was fold my laundry. What an ungrateful brat I was. I just had no idea, Mom. I’m so sorry for all that. But I am so privileged to be learning the truth in it all.

I think becoming a mother has made me closer to you. Yes you’re not here physically, but I swear to the universe that you are all around, all day. I just feel like I can talk to you, that you and I can understand each other now on a different level from when I was a teenager. It’s almost like I achieved an honor with Everett, and now that I have this metal of motherhood, my connection to you has advanced that much more.

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