Enjoy It

In the past two days, five (random!) people have told me to "enjoy this time!" with my baby. All the comments have been followed by, "just wait until he talks back to you..." or "just wait till he starts walking and running away from you.." or "just wait until he leaves you for another woman.." (yes someone actually said that!!).

I have so many thoughts about this, I couldn't help but blog about it. First of all, what makes these people think I'm not enjoying my little man? Is it the fact that I had three bottles of wine in my Target cart today? Or that I was drinking a venti coffee and eating gummy bears to keep my eyes open in the checkout line at the store? I don't remember reading in any of the baby books that "a mother must be smiling, cooing and doting on her baby every second of every day in order to enjoy him." Maybe I missed that chapter.

Though I felt frustrated my the onslaught of comments, I was more saddened by the follow up commentary each person had to offer. It made me feel sorry for them that they felt they needed to project their feelings of regret, frustration, exhaustion, or whatever it is they were feeling at the moment they had to tell me that their child had the worst potty mouth or they hadn't peed alone in three years.

By no means am I claiming to have never complained or felt the same way. I guess I just never thought about laying those feelings out there on a perfect stranger. Which led me to feeling grateful. Grateful that I have friends and family whom I can call when I've been pooped on three times in a day. Grateful that the people I love the most pick up the phone when I call even if I've already talked to them twice that day. Grateful that my husband pitches in... a lot.

So, let me assure you mothers out there who feel it necessary to remind me to enjoy my little angel that every time I look into his eyes I'm enjoying him. Every diaper change... I enjoy him. Every time he tugs on my fingers... I enjoy him. I absolutely enjoy him. As much as I can every minute of every day. Especially when soaking in my evening bubble bath with that end-of-the-day glass of wine in hand.