Congratulations! You've survived your first two months on this planet. Way to go! This is really quite a feat, considering that there were some days when the only reason you survived was my very strong personal commitment to keeping myself out of prison.
To commemorate your first 60 days, I thought I would give you a short performance review, you know, to make sure we're all on the same page around here.
From what I've seen so far, your strengths are screaming, projectile vomiting, dirtying your diapers just moments after they've been changed, snuggling when you're tired, eating (I swear you act like a starving man at a buffet every time I whip out a boob), sleeping during the day, giving adorable baby smiles, and putting on an incredible good baby act whenever you're around people other than Mommy and Daddy.
Areas that could use some improvement include personal hygiene (no one wants to be friends with someone who constantly poops, pees, and pukes all over himself), pacifier retention (Mommy can't go back to sleep when she has to get up to shove your pacifier back in your mouth every two minutes), sleeping at nighttime (when it's dark, you sleep. It's not a difficult concept, really), and nursing technique (you're good at eating, but the method by which you get your food is still awfully ouchie for Mommy).
Overall, we're fairly pleased with your performance so far. We don't really have much of a choice, do we? It's too late to return you. And, besides, I think I lost the receipt.
Keep up the good work, kiddo.
Now, to the adults in the room, my thoughts on my first two months of motherhood. So far, it kinda sucks. These have been the hardest, least rewarding two months of my life (and it's only gotten harder since I went back to work and lost the ability to nap during the day). I cannot believe how many times this little, tiny thing has been able to push me to the edge. I haven't gone over yet, but I've come close. For example, on Christmas night, the one time a year I get to see my extended family, Will woke up screaming to be fed right as dinner was being served. This left me with two options: 1). go feed him and miss dinner, or 2). try to soothe him into waiting for food and miss dinner while I settle him down. So, I missed dinner. This was just one of the many times I've sat and cried because of this kid. There are times when it feels like his whole purpose is ruining my life. And yet...
And yet he somehow manages to redeem himself. I don't know what he does or how he does it, but after one of those days when I wish I would have left him in a dumpster, he somehow manages to make me like him again. I think it usually has to do with me getting a decent amount of sleep. I think he intuitively knows when I'm thisclose to drop kicking him out the window, so he decides to sleep well that night. I'm always in a better mood after a good night's sleep. I'm not sure this survival technique will work forever, but it seems to work for him for now. I would really prefer that he not push me to the brink of mental collapse, but if he can't stop doing that, I hope he continues to know how to pull me back.
So far, I'm not entirely sure whether or not I like being a mom. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. I'm definitely not completely head over heels in love with my baby, which feels very, very wrong. I love him, and there are moments when that love feels overwhelming, but there are other, more frequent, moments when it doesn't. Lots of people told me whole "crazy about your kid" thing doesn't happen right away, but I thought it would have kicked in by now. I hope it does soon.
I also feel like I'm having more parenting failures than successes at this point. Then I wonder, short of shaking, how can you fail at parenting a baby who's so young? I don't really know, but I feel like I'm doing it.
My hope for future months is that I get over my ambivalence toward motherhood. B loves being a dad. I want to love being a mom that much. When people ask me questions like, "Don't you just love being a mommy?" and "Isn't having a baby wonderful?" I want to be able to respond "Yes!" without mentally cringing while doing my best to ensure the asker can't tell I'm lying to them.
Will is two months old today, and quite possibly the cutest kid out there.