Mothering is hard. In other news: Water still wet. I know, this is an obvious statement and it's nothing that hasn't been written about/blogged about/talked about before. But really, it's tough. I find it emotionally more difficult than I ever could have imagined. My daughter, who I adore, need, need, needs me. All. The. Time. She is very social and enjoys other people but when she is upset, tired, sick or just having a rough time, she only wants me. Not my husband or my mother, who generally offer amazing support, but me.
I remember when she was itty-bitty, four weeks or so, and I so longed for some sign that she recognized me. I would search for recognition in her eyes when I picked her up, I hoped that she might stop crying because I was holding her, but she didn't.
Now I know that she knows me. I try to be mindful of it, to enjoy and appreciate it, even as the childcare staff at the YMCA is pulling me out of my workout again.