my new reality

for the record, i don't typically wear red lipstick while nursing. or mascara. or even have clean hair regularly. i don't typically look put together at all on a daily basis because, quite frankly, i'm not. i can wear the shit out of some lululemon leggings though. and i swore i'd never be that mom... 

but it is my current reality. 

speaking of my reality, it looks a little something like this:

i'm up a lot at night with our babe. she sleeps with us and every grunt/moan/hiccup/fart wakes me up. not to mention, she nurses throughout the night, too. and sometimes, like a freak, i just enjoy staring at her because she's awfully cute. 

i have dark circles under my eyes (see previous paragraph) that i don't even attempt to cover up because i'm actually proud of them; i've earned those mother fuckers, ya know?! i have bangs to cover up the skin discoloration i developed on my forehead while pregnant. because, in case you didn't know, your skin can darken in odd places while pregnant. like your upper lip, too. that's right, i have a permanent mustache. pregnancy: the gift that keeps on giving. 

my boobs, while huge and awesome, at this point are just a nuisance. i have a muffin top for the first time in my life and am a solid ten pounds heavier than i'd like to be. is it easy being not so easy on my own eyes? no. it's not. i avoid the mirror when i get naked. and i struggle with it because, guess what, i'm human. but i try to remind myself that it took nine months to pack on and it'll take some time to take off. i'm trying to give myself some grace in the form of new pants. not to mention, i'm a hell of a lot more interesting than just the number on the scale. 

also, pregnancy brain doesn't stop when you give birth. it's a real thing afterwards, too. i've missed deadlines (and have basically given up on writing anything for the foreseeable future) because i just can't formulate sentences that make any damn sense. in fact, i've had to re-read this entire post six times to make sure the neurons in my brain are connecting and i'm writing real actual words of the english language. my brain is basically mush. the only few things it can actively process are if my kids have pooped today, if we've all eaten, if we have or if we should bathe, and how to build a princess castle with oddly shaped pink wooden blocks. 

why it has somehow managed to retain all of the lyrics to frozen is just fucked up if you ask me. 

i overthink everything and constantly worry if i'm doing everything wrong with these two beautiful little girls. that's not me being hard on myself; that's simply me figuring out this mom-of-two thing one day at a time and making a lot of errors along the way. i've raised my voice, lost my patience, and been a real asshole. i'm proud of neither. but i've also listened to my instincts and gotten a lot right as a result and i'm damn proud of that. 

i'm constantly reminding myself that parenthood, while a shit ton of hard work, is supposed to be fun. their umpteen messes are supposed to be. kids aren't meant to pristine and wear white without spilling things on it. it's like eating fried chicken with a fork and knife. some things in life are just meant to be messy. i find myself encouraging more of the weird, less of the rules. because kids should be kids and we could all learn a thing or two about their inability to give a shit about what anyone else thinks of them. please, ask marlo how much she cares what i think and she'll tell you "none."

i'm living and breathing by the advice that babies don't keep. i'm holding edie as much as i can, as much as i need, as much as i want. i'm letting her nap on me and in my arms as much i can. i'm not imposing a schedule. i'm refusing to worry about any of the things i once did because i want to savor, not obsess. 

and finally, my reality is full of a whole lot of love. 

love for myself and for what i'm doing on a daily basis as a mom. 

love for my kids because they have given me a purpose far bigger than any other job ever could. 

love for my husband because without him, i wouldn't have these girls and i surely wouldn't feel so supported.  

and love for my fellow mamas. because, as different as we're all doing things, i choose to believe that we're in the trenches of motherhood together.  

all photos by my friend belle.