And let me tell you, it was good.

Like, really good.  So good that my mind is in a very clear-ish place and I am probably about to say a bunch of things I will later disagree with and regret saying.  But that's neither here nor there, so here goes.

Lately I've been dealing with a lot of guilt for Amaris.  In about a month, she'll have to share her spotlight, and while I'm sure she'll grow to love the whole big sister thing, I still have moments where I worry that she'll be overly jealous or that having a little sister will make her unhappy.  Also, there's the whole sharing my love thing, which I know is going to be just fine and that your heart apparently just produces more love with the birth of a new baby, rather than divvying up your current "child love" between the two, leaving child #1 with less than he/she initially had.  I also realize that Amaris will always be the "luckiest" of my kids, since she'll be the only one that ever got the opportunity to be an only child, so obviously I've spent more time with her already than I'll ever get to spend with any subsequent children.  But still, there are all of these irrational fears I have over becoming a mother of two.  I know, totally normal.  I'll deal.

Another thing that makes me feel guilty is that I have had very little patience for her in these past few weeks months.  She pushes my buttons constantly, and I'm not a really a professional at discipline.  Even with arguments between Mark and I, I am the first to push the disagreement aside and attempt to make nice, even if I am clearly "in the right".  I hate to say I'm a pushover, but I just honestly hate battles and would rather spend my time doing something other than fighting.  I know a good fight once in a while is healthy in any relationship, and I am not saying at all that I avoid all conflict at all costs...  But I do try to keep conflict to a minimum and I choose my battles VERY carefully.  Anyways I'm not usually a patient person anyways, but lately with Amaris I am even less patient than before.  I used to say that I never knew just how patient I could be till I gave birth to Amaris and had all the patience in the world for her, now I have changed my tune a bit.

This may be baby girl talking, but I resent the food-sharing.  Except it's really not even just the food sharing.  I resent the everything sharing.  From food to space to time...  I must be the worst mother in the world.  I just feel like I so seldom have a moment to myself that I am losing touch with any "Kari" outside of "mommy".  And I know baby girl's birth will just multiply that.  Today Amaris ate her lunch (half of a PB&J with some chips and V8 Fusion juice), and I purposely waited till nearly 4PM to eat mine so that I could avoid sharing.  But the moment I had my own food, she was at my side with the cutest little expression asking me for a bite.  Not just one bite, though.  She asked over and over again.  So she really wound up eating nearly an entire Amaris-sized portion of my lunch by the time it was all said and done.  Which frustrated me.  I can't take a shower while she's awake because she will barge into the bathroom and strip out of her clothes and then get in with me.  And then she stands smack dab in the center of the squishy shower mat and hogs the water.  Somehow this little bitty person manages to stand in a way that takes up all of the space and water and forces me and my giganto-belly in a back corner struggling to rinse the shampoo out of my eyes.  That is just so unfair.  And she won't move.  I can't use the toilet without her barging in and narrating.  She will have entire conversations (mostly with herself) about exactly what I am doing there, and when I finish my business and flush the toilet she will gasp and say, "Good job, mommy!  Wash your hands!"  Which is adorable, yes, although it's kind of irritating when you consider that she realizes going on the potty is an accomplishment worthy of praise but won't do it herself.  She is frequently in my lap (even now while my lap is totally disappearing underneath round belly) or standing at my feet attempting to "help" me.  All of these things are totally precious and in many ways I love them.  But in other ways I am just burned out and frustrated.  And hormonal.

So there, how's that for a horrible mommy moment?

Don't get me wrong, I love her to death.  And I love all the silly, quirky little things that she does.  And this age, while it does have it's "terribles", is really cute and a lot of fun.  But sometimes I just feel a little overwhelmed, I guess.  Which brings me to my final point.  No matter how frustrated or irritated I become with her, she always forgives and forgets and ends her days with a kiss and a "Good night, mommy, I love you.  Sweet dreams, mommy."

And really, what could be more rewarding and perfect than that?