No one prepares you for the true weight of raising a child. Learn how to change a diaper. Check. Prepare 3 decent wholesome squares a day. Check. Decorate a bedroom, buy some Dr. Seuss books, a block set, a dolly or a teddy bear. Check. Give hugs and kisses and relate lessons in a singsongy high pitched voice. Check.
Those things are simple. Seem to come easily if you forge that connection early. Realize the power of your presence. The wonder of this little life, unfashioned, unfocused, unshaped in your hands. But no one tells you, can ever fully prepare you for the sheer exhaustion, the coming to the end of yourself over and over and again. The desperation to find a simple solution, a workable plan to solve bedtime struggles or mealtime tantrums. It isn't that easy. And I guess it shouldn't be. A child isn't a fully blank slate. Trying to erase what is already written on the slate is a travesty. My thoughts for yours. My preferences cancel out yours. Wrong.
I am beyond myself with the fatigue of trying to help Will stay down for a nap (which he still desperately needs) feel comfortable and secure and abide by boundaries for bedtime (which he is insecure and fearful of). The crib is too confining, the toddler bed too new and scary. Trying to raise 3 little people while another is on the way is more than taxing. Definitely question myself in moments.
Wouldn't trade this for the world. Would however like to pause this for a week of straight sleep!
