When I first got pregnant I gushed with joy at the thought that I would have a beautiful little person to accompany me through life…
I thought I would have a shopping companion of which I could go to the mall with, instead I have a child who obnoxiously makes rude noises and announces his bodily functions while in public. Nothing says “enjoyable mall strolling” with a kid calling out in their stroller “mom I farted! Mom I pooed!”
I thought I would have someone to have fun lunch dates with, instead I have a child who turns his nose at his food that I either order or make for him, insists that he sits on my lap, and eats MY food.
I thought I would have a buddy to take to the park and watch joyfully, instead I have a child who tries to eat sand, runs off, and when its time to leaves throws such a huge tantrum that I wonder who’s stupid idea it was to go to the park in the first place.
I thought I would have a friend to snuggle up with and watch cartoons with, instead I have a child who smashes the back of his head into my face/nose while trying to snuggle and insists that we watch Elmo or Thomas.
What I thought and what I got were two different things but I also got a child who gives the best hugs in the world, who slays me while dancing to music like he’s a mini Lord Of The Dance, who melts my heart when he tells me he loves me, and who gives me infinite hours of joy (even if he’s not a great mall companion he’ll eventually learn as mommy does.)