Parenting. A frustrating endeavor if ever there was one. Constantly having information shoved down your throats and having to sort and filter through all of it while making decisions in the moment and trying to keep a suicidal ball of energy alive. It’s exhausting. It’s grueling. It’s thankless. It’s unmerciful. It’s the worst and the best thing you could ever imagine. As you watch your little ball of energy learn something new everyday and become more of the person he is going to be you wonder what you ever did with your time before, how you ever thought you loved someone before, how you had ever thought you were complete before.
You catch yourself wondering just how bad of an idea another one would be at the most inopportune times. You learn to pee with an audience, that eating happens whenever you can find a minute, that sleeping is optional and best done clinging to the edge of a bed for sport. The love you experience is unreal, your life revolves around this tiny creature who communicates with made up sounds that resemble grunts and half words and gets frustrated when you can’t understand what the heck he wants. You catch yourself staring at him while he sleeps wondering how you created something that was so perfect and frustrated with just how much he looks like his dad, you again catch yourself mesmerized by the thought of another one knowing full and well that it’s a crazy idea. You start looking at the cost of childcare and wonder just what your husband is gonna think. And then it hits you — you are crazy. You have finally lost your mind. As you sit down to eat you contemplate how bad another one would be, how much more work could it possibly be? And that my friends is baby fever. The knowledge that you can’t handle something and wanting it anyways. The emotional roller coaster that is life finally comes to a point where you want another little human being who relies on you for everything and grows into a toddler who loves his daddy. Stay tuned.