Last night, I thought back to when we decided to make this leap, and I had to recall how quickly we changed our minds on the issue. In a matter of days, we went from no-way-we're havin'-fun-and-we-like-to-go-out-and-I-like-quiet to we're-so-ready-let's-totally-have-the-best-baby-eva. We shocked me.
Sometimes we turn to one another and ask, "What did we do?"
Sometimes I think there is no way I'm ready to be a mom. NO WAY. I'm just driving around, laying on the couch, bathing Lu, cooking the salmon, playing Mah Jong, flipping through my new Martha Stewart, and doing what I do, and then I realize with panic that NOTHING WILL BE THE SAME IN SIX MONTHS. Six months is nothing. Do you even hear me? It is no time.
I really can't visualize what life will be like, but I know that it will not be like this. And I think, "You need to wake up, dummy." I'm acting so casual and normal. Then every once in awhile I get this revelation. I feel like I need to realize to seriousness of the situation and start learning to be more mom-esque. I'VE GOT TO GET MY ACT TOGETHER! I should be cleaning or organizing or stretching or something.
I don't have natural mom impulses like everyone else. I'll tell you right now that I'm not sympathetic or gentle or patient or those other things. Sometimes babies annoy me and make me uncomfortable and nervous. Sometimes other moms or moms-to-be say things that have never once occurred to me. And I shake my head, so I look like I know what I'm doing, and on the inside I'm trying really hard to file away this mom information and commit it to memory so I don't ruin my baby. I'm panting right now. This could go very badly. So badly. For sure, I'm going to raise an emotion mutant. Watch out. He might eat your baby's face off.