I like to think of myself as pretty chill, one of those go with the flow type. I like to think of myself as someone who can handle whatever life throws at me with a serene smile and a grain of salt.
Obviously I like to think of myself as the exact opposite of how I actually am. When things don't go the way I expect I fall apart, eat a box of donuts, have a good cry, and complain about the great injustices the universe is continuously throwing at me.
Being a mom is the biggest challenge I've ever encountered because being a mom means being completely out of control. When I found myself 20, single, and pregnant it was pretty much the biggest shock of my life. But I re-adjusted my expectations of my entire life and kept going. Unfortunately my new expectations involved my water breaking, rushing to the hospital, and popping out an adorable little baby who would sleep through the night by 6 weeks and who would love to just sit around with his calm, hippie mommy who made all her own baby food. Since the day my water did not break and I gave birth to a little baby that scoffed at the very idea of sleep (over a year later he still laughs in the face of bedtime) I have re-adjusted my expectations so many times that I have recently come to the conclusion that I know absolutely nothing about anything.
I would have a child who is every bit as strong willed and high strung as I am. If karma really is a bitch he probably won't sleep through the night till he's four, then my mom would be getting her pay back for sure.
So when I found my sweet little vegetarian boy shoveling dog food into his mouth while cackling mischievously today, I really shouldn't have been surprised. Like the time I pulled the pieces of a stink bug out of his mouth. Twice. During the first 5 months of colicky hell where all my son did was scream at me I remember thinking repeatedly "God knew what He was doing when he made babies so freaking cute, otherwise nobody would procreate and the human race as a whole would end with colic." Now I can't help but think that God knew exactly what he was doing when he gave me a Mini Me.
I'm like a rubber band stretched to its limit. Time to snap that shit and let it go.