Before I had kids, I read every book about birth and parenting I could get my hands on.  I knew that I would be tired, that life would never be the same, and that having a baby would change our family dynamic in an unalterable way. 

I knew these things, but I didn’t really know them.

I knew, for example, that I’d be tired but I didn’t know how hard being utterly exhausted would be.  When my first baby was new, I remember desperately wanting a little more sleep, and feeling incredibly, unforgivably selfish because of it.  I wish that someone had told me I might feel this way, and that it was okay.

I also knew that life would never be the same, but I had no idea what “not really the same” meant.  I didn’t understand that my world would shift so completely from a self-centered focus to a what’s-best-for-my-child focus.  I wish that someone would have shared that at times that shift would seem completely logical, and at others, it would be incredible difficult.

I knew that babies cry and toddlers throw tantrums and five-year olds test independence.  But I didn’t know that I’d be really good at handling some of these, and not so good at others.  I wish someone had told me that every phase is only that: a phase that will pass before you know it.

I knew that there would be more laundry.  And there is.

Everyone did tell me, of course, that time would fly.  But in the midst of diapers and baby food, I couldn’t really comprehend it.  Now there are no more diapers and no more high chairs.  Those cute overalls have been replaced by Hollister t-shirts and ripped up jeans.  I feel like the film is on fast-forward, and sometimes I can’t find the pause button.  I hope someone will help me figure out where it is.

Kirsetin wrote this post to participate in the Blog Blast on the Blog Exchange, which is sponsored this week by Discovery Health and their new series “Deliver Me.”