Mommin’ Ain’t Easy

Some days are hard. Correction: most days are hard. I feel constantly overwhelmed by taking care of both myself and a second human on a daily basis, making sure all of his needs are met, keeping him happy, entertained, and enriched; building a human being that will become someone I’d like to know as an adult. It’s a lor. I try to remind myself “everyone does this.” It seems crazy; somewhere out there there is a 16-year-old mom with the same duties as me, crushing it. I should feel comforted by that fact, but it doesn’t make the day-to-day any easier.

And then there are those other days, these rare glimpses into what the future (hopefully) looks like, where my son is courteous, behaved, and loving. Where he says please and thank you all the time, asks politely for food at a restaurant that he then sits down and eats without complaint. Days where we go out for a meal and he stays in the booth the entire time, fidgeting only slightly but not bounding out of his seat to run away.

I can never figure these days out; they honestly almost don’t even feel real because they are so different from our average day, the ones where I feel that I struggle to keep my temper in check while my son constantly pushes my buttons, testing his boundaries.

I’m not sure if he’s too tired to be the psycho he normally is, if I’m in a particularly good mood that seems to be clouding his behavior in some magical way, or if this is a glimpse into my future; into what it looks like to have a child and not a toddler anymore. The days when all of that reasoning and disciplining you’ve been doing finally feels like it will pay off—after months of being fairly certain timeouts were all completed in vain.

I know there will be future struggles, ones much more mentally trying than those of today, where I have to worry about bad influences and peer pressure and a world so much scarier than that of 3-year-olds. But today, I’m taking the win. I’m cherishing this good day to as a memory to call upon during all the hard times that lay ahead. To the moments this three-year-old starts acting like a three year old again. We have to take these wins when we can, moms. And today, I’m taking mine, and giving myself a little credit, too—in the form of a bowl of ice cream touted as a “good behavior” gift for my son.