Last week, Jude officially turned 7 months old. It went by much faster then I thought it would. I can still remember coming home with him from the hospital that very first day. It was incredible and unreal. My pregnancy had not prepared me for what it would actually be like when he was finally here. To me, my son is perfect. He’s smart, strong, and unbelievably funny. He had a grumpy face when he was born and after 16 hours of labor, he came out looking like his father. I forgave him and even when he throws his cranky fits now, I still adore him because he’s my everything and the answer to my entire life.

I was so excited to become a mom, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t have things that I was worried about. I read articles, paged through books, went on websites, watched videos, downloaded apps, and even had a nurse visiting me every couple of weeks to help fill my head with as much information as possible. Seven months in and I can honestly say, that there were still lessons that I could only really learn from experience.

So here are the top 7 things that I learned in the last 7 months as a new mom:

 

It’s okay to ask the baby’s father for help and you should.

Simply put, he’s a parent too. This is at the top of my list because it might have been one of the hardest things that I had to accept. Personally, even when I wish I didn’t have to do most things myself, I end up doing them anyway, because I feel like I’m the only one who can get things done the “right” way. Let me just say, that this type of mentality can hurt you more then it can help and it kept me frustrated for a really long time. I needed help and I realized I just had to let my husband do things his own way. Sometimes that meant having to watch him struggle. It’s not easy and at times I takeover because Jude’s been crying just a little too long for me to handle or because I can see him falling asleep as he’s trying to put Jude to bed. I strongly believe that fathers need to make the time and effort doing all of the things that mothers do, especially when it’s within their capabilities (there isn’t much that isn’t.) It’s obviously really hard work and even if you’re a Stay-at-Home-Mom like me and your baby’s father goes to work everyday, it’s not a trade off. It’s not an excuse. You’re in this together and it shouldn’t just be on your shoulders. You shouldn’t have to do everything just because you know you can. Ultimately, Jude needs us both and I need his father so that I can recover and continue giving as much of myself as I can to raise our son.

 

Your routine should be what works.

I’m sure that it can be different for other moms that are more organized, have better systems and a set routine in place. I play it by ear and have made up a schedule that revolves around Jude’s interests and temperament. So here it is…

Jude wakes up at about 7:30 AM. He requires kisses, cuddles, and his first of several diaper changes. He wants to be fed rice cereal with his solids. He loves watching “Room on the Broom,” being played with, having tummy time, taking turns on his jumperoo and walker. When it’s time for his first nap of the day, he will complain and let you know it. By then, you’re exhausted too and join him. A couple hours later, it’s time to do the morning routine all over again, but this time with snacks, and play time, while you’re trying to draw in your eyebrows so that you can face the world outside. It’s time for the dog park. The dogs run to the car. The baby is in the car seat with a handful of toys on his lap. You packed the diaper bag and the stroller is in the trunk.  You bring the stroller fan since it’s typically hell weather outside. You brought another tote of other baby toys because sometimes he gets picky. You have a dog bowl, two water bottles, and tennis balls under the front seat. Once the car is over packed for a long term trip that you aren’t taking, you’re finally ready to go. At this point I usually forget something important for myself, like sunglasses or my driver’s license. The whole process took a good ten minutes. At the dog park, as soon as you get out of the car, you have three dogs pulling you in different directions, but you somehow manage to get everyone and everything there at the same time, in one piece. Almost as soon as you set things down on the picnic table, baby wants out of his stroller and the dogs want you to play. You play with the baby first. He kind of settles down and then you Face Time your mother even though you have zero energy to talk. Jude smiles and plays for her in front of the phone for a while and then wants a bottle for his quick dog park nap. He sleeps and you throw the ball for a dog who will not fetch, but make you chase her, and for another dog who fetches and stops just out of your reach for you to walk the two feet to get it from him. Then there’s the last dog who can’t be trained, but is the only one who astonishingly knows how to fetch. To get back home, its the same tedious process as it was to get there. Once at home, you pray the baby will go down for a nap again so you can maybe eat something. He does and you feed the dogs first. You try to pick up a little bit, but of course it’s a short nap. Morning routine all over again, more diaper changes, baby’s dinner, and you contemplate what you’ll be able to start cooking once the hubby is home. He’s home and you throw a meal together that you and your husband take turns eating. The television is on, the baby senses bed time is coming soon and he starts to fuss and throw fits. Hubby takes the baby to do story time before putting him down. You’re washing dishes and finally getting the chance to clean, to pick up, to make his lunch for work, to do a load of laundry, and to fold what’s been in the dryer for hours. It’s been an hour and you still hear the baby. The baby is awake and the father is not. You wake the father up to yell at him, but ultimately putting the baby to sleep is up to you.

Sometimes, these normal and repetitive days make it seem like I got nothing done at all. I don’t always feel accomplished or that satisfaction after an important project’s been completed. This type of routine and work, it’s different. I’ve learned that if the baby is happy, healthy, and number one, to hell with the rest. My day can also not go as I described. He has skipped naps, refused to sleep at night, and eat at regular times. There’s blow out diapers and baby throw up. There’s been unjustifiable crying and baby tantrums. Grocery shopping days are a mission and even on the worst of days, the dogs still need to go out and get out of the house. Now, the days that go pretty smoothly are wins. The ones that are hard, but I still get through are wins. As a mother, you just do the best that you can.

 

Make a little bit of time for yourself everyday.

I sacrifice a significant amount of sleep for ME time. I have managed this type of sleep deprivation for the last few months of my son’s life and it still works for me. It’s not something that I’m willing to give up yet. When Jude goes to sleep in the early evening, after I’ve done what I’ve needed to do for the following day, I plant myself on the couch and just let myself get lost in television. I also go work out, listen to music, I read, write, or sometimes take a really long, hot shower. It’s not about the thrill or the productivity, it’s about me just being all about ME for a couple of hours. This ME time helps me do a mental reset. I’m not the proudest of how much Netflix, Hulu, Prime Video, Bravo, Showtime, The CW, and HGTV that I watch…. but I enjoy it so, so much. I live a life outside of Mommy-hood thanks to these shows. Ultimately, I make no apologies for it. No mother with her own guilty pleasures should have to.

 

Embrace your post pregnancy body, but don’t let it be your excuse.

I mean this in the best way possible. Women’s bodies are amazing, incredible, and can grow/house little human people until they are ready to come out into the real world. There aren’t enough words to describe how miraculous pregnancy and childbirth is. It just is. After I had Jude, it had been several months since I had gotten a good workout in. All excuses aside, I had dropped a 20 lb weight on my big toe and then had fallen off an elliptical during my pregnancy. I had then decided that I wasn’t going to risk my baby’s life due to my intensified clumsiness. Six weeks postpartum, after getting cleared to resume regular activities, I was so ready to get back into a healthy lifestyle. Then of course, reality hit and mom life happened. I was so exhausted, sleep deprived, and I was used to eating whatever I wanted. I was also pissed about the stretch marks that had somehow appeared overnight towards the end of my pregnancy. I put things off for a while. Holidays came and went. I felt like shit.  I looked the part and I just kept trying to avoid the mirror.

This year there was no resolution. I was just tired of being tired. I was mad that I was mad about something that I could easily help change, if I just stopped making excuses. I was just going to make working out and eating healthier a thing of my life. I wasn’t going to overthink it or set ridiculous expectations for myself.  I also wasn’t going to let this “well you had a baby,” be my excuse for being lazy or procrastinating because ” I didn’t have time” or I didn’t want to leave the baby. I made the time and I’ve seen improvement, but overall, I FEEL so much better now. I have more energy (even with lack of sleep.) I’m more comfortable in my old and new clothes. I’m living a lifestyle that doesn’t make me feel guilty and helps me appreciate what my body can do.

 

Being a Stay At Home Mom doesn’t mean that you don’t work.

It’s a job that you don’t get paid for. You are your own boss, but there are really no set breaks and to be honest, your child is in charge. You squeeze in meals, bathroom trips, and even stepping away from the baby for a second to get something that’s needed. It is an all day and all night until your child is asleep thing, and even then, you can’t really sleep without checking on them throughout the night. My husband has seen me try. You don’t get vacation time or sick days or I just can’t get out of bed days. There is no discussion or negotiation when your baby is fussy or teething or just feels like crying no matter what you do, just because they can. It’s also cleaning and cooking and taking care of animal children. It’s doing things for your husband and keeping track of what needs to get done. You’re in charge of a lot and although it’s a privilege to be at home, raising my son, it is work. Luckily, I just get to wear what I want.

 

Your life is going to change, so change your expectations.

If you were to look at my browser history, you would see pages and pages filled of travel deals, flight sales, Groupon getaway vacations, and saved Airbnb spots. I have four apps on my phone to give me travel alerts. I have another app that can find things to do and places to see in every city, of every state, in every country, at the touch of a button. I get emails from almost every airline which I frequently open to keep myself informed. If I could pick a super power it would be teleportation and I would go absolutely everywhere…

Mommy-hood has given me several different realities and one of them is that I can’t just get up and go. I don’t have a job right now, but I have a little guy who’s not quite ready for the type of vacationing and backpacking that I’d like to do. I also have three dog children and I know that there are dog hotels and a daycare that I could probably find with a million of great reviews, but I don’t trust strangers with my babies and the cost adds up fast. I don’t blame anyone who uses these kind of services, but they just aren’t for me.

I haven’t had much luck enjoying Florida either and I live here. I can’t just get up and go anywhere. It might not even matter how close it is. It’s a process. It takes time and I need to take several things with me to make sure that Jude is going to be covered in any given situation. If he’s in a bad mood, I’m not going anywhere. I can’t keep him in a car seat for a long extended amount of time. I also can’t carry him in my arms for long either. He’s a big boy! He’s at that stage in his life where he wants to sit up by himself, but can’t quite do it yet. He loves to stand, but his knees buckle. He wants up. He wants down and sometimes he doesn’t know what he wants. I want to go out, do things, take my time doing them, and travel. Right now, it takes a lot more planning and certain circumstances to be able to do it, but soon Jude and I will be all over the place taking Mommy and Son trips. It will all be worth waiting for.

My life changed and I enjoy the moments that I can’t get enough of right now.

 

Being a mother is what you make of it.

I’ve said this before, it’s hard. But, it can be the best and most fulfilling thing you’ve ever done, if you let it be. There is so much that goes into being a parent and it does test your character beyond belief. You make all these little and big decisions for another person who entirely depends on you. This child who is going to keep growing and turn into his or her own person with goals, dreams, and a type of life that you helped shape, is going to always remember you along the way. Isn’t that incredible? You get a chance to make such a huge a difference in someone else’s life. As a mother, I am so lucky to have this opportunity. I’m an imperfect, tired, and stubborn person with a past life and baggage of my own, but I wake up with purpose and love I never thought I could feel in my heart. The hard days remind me of what’s worth fighting for and the easy days, well I”ll take all the ones that I can get.

 

I was strangely ready when things took an incredible turn in my life, but before I dive into all of that…

We met at the worst place I’ve ever worked in my life. It was office hours, a lot of sweaty people, a company that didn’t care much about anything other then “numbers,” “appearances,” and throwing the pressure on the shoulders of those who truly had little to no real support. I won’t name it. Most of you who know me will know. For the rest of you, this might even be your happy place at the beginning or  the end of a long day.

Tim and I worked together for over a year and for several months we talked without a formal introduction. We talked when we had to and I had to contact him about his training clients on a daily basis. Accidentally, we started sharing small pieces of our lives with each other, in between slow work hours or in the comings and goings of lunch breaks. It was platonic and there wasn’t much thought behind it. I didn’t have much of an impression of him, but I can still remember walking in on him the first time he was sitting on my chair at my desk . He was reading a book titled, “Trust Your Vibes: Secret Tools for Six Sensory Living.” I grabbed the book from his hands and quickly skimmed some of the pages.I was confused? I was slightly impressed and wondered how someone who could barely manage a hello, had dated very questionable and “friendly” looking women, and refused to help me take down the volleyball net once when I asked, could read something like that. I didn’t know what to think, but I know somewhere deep inside it had planted a small seed.

I ended up taking a three week vacation to Europe with my mother. It was something that I really wanted us to share together and ultimately it didn’t end as well as I hoped, but when I got back to work, there he was. He immediately rushed up to see me and ask how it all went. He wanted stories and I was jet lagged, frustrated, and surprised to see such a big smile on his face. It took me longer then it would a normal person to realize he was flirting. Again, I was confused, but compelled. I like to joke with him now and say that he ambushed me. I was still drunk from all the wine. My mom had driven me mad and my worst enemy could have been my best friend when I got back, but the truth is that the timing was just right.

I was the type of person that always wanted to be in the know, to see things coming so that I could plan. I had been caught too off guard to have censored myself, to be anyone other then myself around him from the beginning. I didn’t know that he was really listening to me when I talked. I didn’t really think much of it when we made eye contact from across the room. I didn’t know why when he smiled at me when I first got back home, why that filled me with something that I hadn’t felt in a really long time… Hope.

~

Tim and I took a giant leap in the first year of our relationship. We went through things that most couples take five years to progress through. That was not our style. We dated for about a month before he moved in with me. We went on four trips together and came back home with our relationship fully intact. He joined the military shortly after that, left for basic training, but not before discovering that our little man would be joining us in a few months. I went to visit him during his graduation and he proposed that weekend. I went back to see him in Texas, a little bit before he was coming back home, and we got married. We had a small and beautiful ceremony at Convent Park on the San Antonio River Walk. I was nervous and he was calm, steady, and sure about every step we were taking together in our lives. His mother and Aunt planned a wonderful baby shower for us when he was back home in Chicago and days later we were on our way here to Tampa.

When I met him, I thought that I knew everything there was to know about love and heartbreak. My plan was to make my life as predictable as possible to avoid pain and disappointment. Life’s plan was to wake me up and teach me to let go of so, so much control. Real love hit me when I was ready and the rest fell into place just as it was meant to.

 

My name is Esmeralda, but I go by Esme since college. My oldest friends still call me Es. I answer to all of them. I’m 27 years old and most days I have to think about it before knowing for sure. I am originally from Chicago, but currently live in Tampa, Florida. My husband, Tim, is in the Air Force and this is our first year in the military. We have a 7 month old son named Jude. I am a stay at home mom and I usually love it when I don’t hate it. I have three dogs named Jovie, Oliver, and Teddy.

Before this, I had a job that I hated. I was still recovering from a past relationship that had ended years ago (I tend to dwell on things,) and I had no idea that Tim and I would ever date, much less share a life together.  Back then, I only knew three things. I needed to stop working at places that made me miserable. I had to shut the door on my past, and I needed to find a way to stop living my life through television. I have now fully resolved one of those three things.

Before that, I went to an Arts College. I graduated with a BA in Creative Writing and instead of being inspired by all the like minded individuals who could probably bleed ink from their veins if you poked them hard enough, I was so taken aback, so floored, so irrevocably intimidated by the talent in the room, that I very quickly gave up. I did what I had to do to get my “writing” done, get good grades, got my degree, and walked away with a strong sense of failure before I ever even really got started.

Now, I’m a mother, a wife, a dog mom, a daughter, a friend, and a giant regret to my ex. I like to dabble in writing, shop obsessively for home decor, and return fifty percent of the things that I order from Amazon Prime. I cook, I clean, I change diapers, walk the dogs, and yell at my husband when he gets home. I don’t like talking to anyone on the phone, but I’ll text the shit out of people if we’re having a conversation. I used to read stacks upon stacks of books when I was younger, but now I binge watch movies and television. I work out late at night when my husband can’t function and my son is asleep. That’s the only real ME time that I have now. There are those who sleep and those who go to sleep and I go to sleep around 2 to 4 in the morning. I love my dogs way too much. I drink way too little and I welcome you all to read my following blog posts. Most will be about my life, experiences, advice and tips, stories, and whatever transpires in my day to day.

“the day you accept yourself for who you are, flaws and all…is the moment nothing can bother you. you are you’re own killer and there is nothing worse than not believing in yourself.” – r. m. drake