I was going to have a tantrum today.
I was going to post about how hard my day was - first day home alone with the new baby, trying to get a workout in, keep up on housework, and still be a good mama and give my boy all the loves he needs. He was fussy this morning and from 5am on it was a dance of cuddling and pumping and feeding and changing and rocking and burping and then PRAYING he'd go back to sleep long enough for me to get a few Zzzzz's in. I gave up on the concept at 10:30 and slowly got us ready and out the door for a jog [IN THE RAIN]. We got home and I got all pumped up to do my first Shred workout but had to hop back and forth between rocking Cohen in his carseat and having Jillian chew me out for taking breaks. Then I cleaned the master bedroom as fast as I could, picked up most of the house, and spent the rest of the afternoon feeding, pumping, cuddling, burping, [getting HURLED on], and changing my sweet little boy.
I was grumbling a little, visualizing this routine lasting for the next three months and wishing for just a teeny dash of normalcy in my day. I was writing up a blog in my head talking about how much harder it is to be a SAHM than a working mom, how I miss work and routine, and blah blah blah. While I was rocking Cohen after his mid-afternoon snack I snuck on my phone and checked my Google-reader to see if I was missing out on anything. I don't get to keep up on my blog reading like I used to and I wanted to make sure nothing major had happened in the world of the interwebs.
And I read this post. And I realized what an asshole I am for complaining about how hard my life is.
I've been following Jenn's posts since I was pregnant with Addison, I followed along as her twins were conceived despite huge odds, as she lost the healthy twin the day before delivery, and as her surviving baby struggled for the last 17 months in the NICU. And now she has to bury her baby. Suddenly everything fell into perspective for me... I have a healthy baby boy and a thriving little girl, my biggest concern is how to fill my spare time and keep the crumbs off my floors. I stress out because my laundry piles up and because I forget to shower. But my children are alive and healthy and safe... and that is really all that matters.
So, I won't have a tantrum today. I won't be selfish enough to think my life is hard enough to warrant a tantrum. Instead, I'll be thankful for each time I get spit up on, for every time I get woken up during the night, for every fit Addison throws when she can't have any more apple juice. I'll be thankful and I'll count my blessings - and any time I start to feel sorry for myself I will remember that I'm lucky just to have these two tiny people in my life.