Posted in Blog, Emotional wellness, Featured, Just for you, Life as a mom, Rebecca

Getting Back to Good


One of the things I’ve been thinking about lately is expectations. A lot of the reasons I have felt “down” in the last 2 years is because of expectations. I expected to have a natural birth and it ended in a C-Section. I didn’t expect quite that experience nor the recovery time that followed.

I expected I would go back to eating great and exercising and lose the baby weight in just a few months. I lost the weight pretty quickly, then got casual about my eating and exercising and gained a bunch back.

I expected my baby to sleep through the night at a certain age and he didn’t. He didn’t roll over or crawl when I thought. I didn’t want him to see or watch ANY TV for at least 2 years. Well that went out the window when football season came up last Fall. And sometimes I let him watch Curious George. (I can feel the judgment now.)

Sitting here thinking of all these things really frustrates me. I see how much pressure I put on my son to fit into this little box and it’s just not gonna happen. And I’m definitely not fitting in it. HA.

When he was born, I remember just thinking how much I loved him and wanted to protect him. I don’t remember planning or plotting all these milestones he must meet at certain times. But during the year, I have felt at times disappointed in myself. I don’t feel disappointment towards my son. I take the responsibility completely.

Here are just some of the thoughts I’ve had.

– I’m stupid for letting this happen.

– I’m a bad mom.

– I’m not qualified or equipped for this.

– What’s wrong with me?

– Everyone else has their stuff together, why don’t I?

Here is the deal. I don’t want this to be a depressing post. I’m not depressed. I’m just being brutally honest. I’m a happy, optimistic, and loving woman. But I want to share all of this because it is real. We all have these thoughts at one time or another. I’m not alone and neither are you.

The important thing is that I love myself for who I am, not how much I weigh, not what I look like, not for when my son crawls. Those things don’t define me as a woman or mom. They don’t make me more worthy of love.

Most importantly, my son doesn’t have to sleep through the night at a certain age for me to love him. Who really cares? It’s all too easy to get caught up in stuff that doesn’t really matter. Love yourself. Love your family. Make sure THEY know you love them. Spend time with them, care for them, and teach them what is really important.

I had a great opportunity this morning with a friend to take a look at where I am at. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I see where I’m at and now it’s time to make some course corrections. Let the expectations go. That doesn’t mean I don’t create goals for myself. I just mean to let the “pressure” and “judgment” go. Set the goals. Make a plan. Go for it and have fun along the way. Somewhere I forgot about the fun.

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