I’ve been a mom now for six and a half years.

There was a while there that I didn’t think I was going to make it. I was tired, run down and couldn’t figure out why it seemed so easy for everyone else. I was certain I was failing motherhood any time my first born failed to nurse, sleep or poop on “baby book” schedule.

Six years later and I’ve thrown most of those books away.

Motherhood isn’t graded. Some days it’s just barely survived.

So, what I write here is often for me more than anyone else. The me who felt lost and totally disoriented. The me who needed to be cheered on through the dark midnight nursing shifts and the public diaper blow outs and the irrational crying {on my part}.

What I write here is what I wish I’d known at the sleep deprived beginning.

That motherhood is both the hardest and most magnificent thing you will ever do.

And that makes you remarkable.

Not ordinary. As your dishes and diapers and cycles of laundry and sweeping and cleaning and car pooling and wiping babies drooling and vacuuming and math tutoring and volunteering and baking and every other in between-ing might try to tell you.

Extraordinary.

You are.


::

I think motherhood should come with a super hero cape and a cheerleader.
My {free} eBook The Cheerleader for Tired Moms might be the next best thing.
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