It appears as though a previous post of mine may have ruffled a feather or two. I didn't mean for my Lucky post to say that Miles is better than any other child or that I am the perfect mother, who is obviously better than you, evidenced by my perfect child. I was just expressing joy over my sweet little butter-ball smiley baby.
Our days aren't all shiny, happy and giggle-filled (although there are more giggles than tears, for which I will always be grateful). I have been pooped on and peed on and spit-up on and snotted on and cried on and had my hair/glasses/earrings/clothing/necklace/nose/eyeballs pulled. Motherhood is honestly just about what I expected...I knew it wouldn't be rosy 100% of the time. But can I tell you a secret? Even in those moments...you know the ones...where it's 5pm and you realize that all you've done all day is feed/change/entertain/repeat this little meatball. No shower, no meals, no house cleaning, no laundry...nothing that would be considered regular adult behavior. You smell like stale formula and baby wipes and you're wearing the same clothes you went to bed in the previous night. Even in those moments I am happy. I promise. Because you know what all that poop/pee/spit-up means?? We have a baby in our house. We waited way too long for this experience to be upset over a little poop and tears.