I sound like a broken record. To myself and most likely to everyone else I communicate with. It's as if I am stuck in this season of life with an infant. I constantly beat myself up mentally for not being strong enough to be a good mom. I tell myself that I wanted to be a mom so I need to suck it up and move on with the hard days, the sleepless nights, the endless dishes and laundry and stop complaining about it. But the thing is, I don't HATE those things. I absolutely love being a mom and I would not change being Theo's mommy for the entire world. But ya'll, I am exhausted. I crave some sort of consistency and routine in my day to day responsibilities, and throwing in an unpredictable 7.5 month old (who is now mobile!) has been a tricky adjustment. I never know much and how well Theo is going to sleep at night. I never know where he's going to sleep at night. I don't know how clingy he's going to be and how much of my time I have to spend holding and rock...
My life with anxiety.