Staying home and learning how to raise a baby has been such a joy. Of course, every day has its challenges. Sometimes I have to use both hands, 3 toys, and maybe even a leg to help hold him down to get a diaper on him. Some days I have kitchen walls covered in apple sauce, peas smashed between the wood planks of the floor, and I’m picking chicken pieces out of the dog’s (very long) hair. I might get a quick break during nap time only if I have successfully showered, returned all of the toys back to their holding spots, cleaned up the food-smeared kitchen, consumed some sort of nutrition other than a cup of coffee, and taken care of all the other daily chores that loom over my head constantly. There is not much reward other than hopefully having a child that is not incarcerated 20 years down the road. I don't get paid for it and I don't receive any awards or tangible gratitude.
I do what I do for the happiness and love that I hopefully instill in my child. And every day, when his dad walks through the door and he hears his favorite deep voice echo through the house, the expression on his face is worth all the insanity that comes with raising a child. I know my baby feels secure and confident in the love that he knows is just around the corner.
Whoa. That just got deep.