Motherhood: A Balancing Act~ A series

Standing, no hopping on 1 foot because my Yorkie is running around my feet, with a 20+ pound chunkers on my right arm, bottle in my right hand, baby spoon sticking out of my mouth sideways like one of those cavemen that have the bone sticking out of their nose, with my dinner in my left hand and baby's dinner in the crook of my arm, trying to juggle the ringing phone, the Facebook messages, the incessant @&$ beep of the I-pad telling me I have a new message or email, a husband asking me where something is that is completely out in the open in the refrigerator, but he still can't see it or find it and trying to choke out an answer to him over the spoon in my mouth, all while balancing a little colorful ball on my nose (just kidding about the ball-but that is how I feel sometimes). I feel like the little circus seal who does all these little tricks just to earn a fish-but I don't like fish. 

It is a wonder I don't drop things. 

Wait a minute! Sometimes, I do. I DROP THE BALL! I drop the effin ball!

I drop the food, the phone, the messages, the emails, time to blog and record my life and history, BUT NEVER, EVER, EVER do I drop the baby! 

But I do let him monkey climb into his Baby Einstein....ehhhh

Life for me has become a balancing act. A tight rope walk over a flood and fire, and everything else in between. Heck, motherhood has become a balancing act, a whole new host of responsibilities that now I have to juggle with two hands, two feet and one mouth. 

It has become all about making priorities, (and breaking them) all in the name of a little chubby boy that calls me momma or ma-ma-ma. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

At first, the thought of not being able to do everything, not complete my daily, weekly, yearly check list seemed to splinter my mind as I could not fathom how I would be able to let things go. I didn't know how I would let things fester on the back-burner  I didn't know how I would simply let things pile up-the laundry, the dishes, the umpteen thousand emails and missed phone calls, but I did. And I would again. 

All in the name of a little boy named Korbin Bru. Do I regret it? Heck no! I would do it all again, exactly the same way, as long as my little man is happy and healthy.

The moments with him are fleeting at best. Everyday he learns something new. He grows. He surprises me with his understanding of what I say or sign everyday. He shows he understands emotions when he hits and I act like I am crying, and  hugs me to show he is sorry. But I am wise enough to know that the time like this is fleeting. It is not constant. It is like the wind and the rain-unpredictable to a point. 

Soon, he will not want me to rock him or hold him or feed him. He will want to do it all by himself because he is that independent type. know he will be squirming to get out of my lap and go explore on his own. In truth, sometimes, even at 13 months, he does it now. He won't want to give away his kisses so freely as he does now(or more exactly, used to do), or want to get in my lap to play, or have me to read to him. (although I have to say that the wanting to get in my lap to hear a story has drastically increased--as long as he brings me the book---usually an Elmo rhyming book). 

I know in a few months that he will not need me like he does now. He will want to do it. Mr. Independent. He will want to search and explore his own world, and discover it with his own eyes, hands, and feet. He will run freely when I open his playroom gate with the exclamation "Free the prisoners" because his Bella dog is with him too. This causes an absolute run to the adult retreat because it is sooooo cool in a babies eyes that he can't have all the cool toys and buttons to push in his room. 

But in the end, at the end of the day, Mommy will be there (all the time), watching with her watchful, hawk like eyes and proud heart. 

I always  never thought I would be a stay at home mom, until my heart began living outside my body on that September day. 

But then, just for a moment (5 months) I thought I could do this. 

I thought that I could be a stay at home mommy. 

But alas, the teaching profession beckoned me back again. It calls out to me like a ghost in the night...and I (kicking and screaming) rejoin the workforce.

And I kicking and screaming...rejoin the living.
And I kicking and screaming...rejoin motherhood...c