Partying To Parenting

Let's get one thing straight. I'm not going to win the "Mom of the Year" award this year. Or next. Or probably ever. So I'm just going to put this out there, and hope that I don't regret typing it.

I had one of those moments the other day that felt like a slap in the face reminding me, "hey! you're a mom now!"

Okay okay. Today, I experienced something I just have to share. It had me so baffled, so surprised, that I really just need some clarification on the topic.

Before I was a mommy, I looked forward to vacations. Tom and I took many a vacation together. We went to Las Vegas, Chicago, Ocean City, New York, England, etc. Travel was fun and aside from the occasional airport snafu like a delayed flight or one of us having to be pat down, we usually enjoyed our vacations with hardly a second thought.

I knew this day was bound to come. I'd been bracing myself for it ever since Henry was born. I'd heard stories from other moms about how miserable their babies are when sick, so imagine my horror when I woke up the other morning to snot bubbles.

Well Hello There.

Hi. I'm Stephanie and I'm one of the newest additions to the DC Metro Mom blogger family. I ended up blogging here on accident. Let me explain.

I wasn't even sure I wanted kids. I was 23 and had just moved to DC for a job when that decision was made for me. I got pregnant. My then boyfriend, now husband, and I moved in together and over 10 months later our son, Henry, was born. I barely survived the excruciating 41 weeks 3 days of pregnancy and am now fumbling my way through motherhood. Tom and I use to spend our nights out on 8th street with our friends. Now, our condo looks like a rainbow threw up toys all over it, and our nightly entertainment comes from letting Henry crawl around naked after his bath.

As for me, I traded in my blackberry for bottles and cloth diapers. I stay at home full time with Henry and have taken motherhood head-on. Henry and I spend our days (counting down the minutes until Daddy gets home so Mommy can hand the little monster over) on play dates, reading books titled, "That's not my puppy," and smearing banana all over any permeable surface. During the ever coveted and holy nap time, I get to do things the person in my former non-baby life would have enjoyed. I sew, clip coupons, and occasionally make homemade treats. One thing my husband and I can definitely agree on -- even though Henry arrived a few years earlier than we would have liked, we wouldn't change a single thing about our rough and tumble little boy.

Now it's one thing to have to wake up in the middle of the night with your child. Luckily (knock on copious amount of wood), Henry never wakes up in the middle of the night. So, I go to bed at 11 planning on waking up at 7 or whenever the babe rises. Good deal.

It's a whole completely different thing to have to wake up in the middle of the evening, night, morning, naptime with your baby monitor. As a mother, I didn't sign on for taking care of a sweet baby boy and an *sshole baby monitor.

Let me explain. We have the Angelcare monitor that detects motion. We bought it as a recommendation from friends who have a young son. They said it was the best thing they owned. It was especially nice once Henry was born considering he spent the first week of his life in the NICU with breathing problems.