Though I may pride myself on being a totally unique individual (yes, like the rest of us), I have in recent days discovered I am not alone.
Apparently, there are 5.3 million stay-at-home mothers.
But more than that, these mothers (working in or out of the home is irrelevant here), told me, upon the birth of my first child, that I should enjoy "every minute" because it would "pass too quickly." Frankly, when you're not sleeping more than two hours at a stretch, NOTHING, and I do mean NOTHING, can pass quickly enough. Their trite advice made me want to vomit all over the baby. (Tit-for-tat, I should say.)
You know what? My little dumpling, the little fat, bald-headed baby I gave birth to almost three years ago is preparing for preschool, and it has dawned upon me (and no, I haven't enjoyed it), that things are "passing too quickly." Lord, help me as I join the masses.
When he was an infant, I had a book of meditations for new mothers. The book went page by page corresponding to the age of the baby. What did I do? I read ahead in some sort of desperate attempt to make him grow older because honestly, while I love my children, and I adore babies in a rather "girlie" way (yes, I squeal when I see them, I always want to hold them, and I want more of them), the adjustment to life with kicked my unique backside.
But, as someone famous once said, everything has been said already. With that said, I want to say what everyone else has already said a hundred million times before. Enough said. Did I say it?