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by Grace Holliman
Before the birth of my second child earlier this summer, I made a promise to myself. I pledged to be a more receptive, flexible and thankful person. I made this decision knowing that my job as an at-home-mom of an infant and a three-year-old was going to test my patience, stamina and sanity beyond anything I had ever experienced before.
I am a very good parent and I love my children but, to be honest, motherhood does not come naturally to me. I don’t enjoy shopping for cute children’s clothes nor do I find fun in decorating a nursery. Parenting magazines, milestone checklists, and percentage growth charts do nothing but add angst to my life. Motherhood has never filled me with “warm fuzzies” and joyous rapture. In fact, after the birth of my first child, I was plagued by migraine headaches and more anxiety than ever before.
I made my resolutions of receptiveness, flexibility and thankfulness based on an incident that happened when my firstborn was only three months old. For me, at three months, the excitement of a new baby had faded and the feeling of “Oh my God, what have we done?” had set in. It was late January and I was worn out from multiple nightly feedings and the concern that comes along with being a first-time parent. The way I deal with stress is to go running. Physical exercise releases tension, allows me to organize my thoughts and put life’s happenings into perspective. Even through the exhaustion of caring for a newborn, I ran on a regular basis, usually in the evenings when my husband came home from work and I could sneak off to the YMCA.
There was one particular January day when I had just about had it. I had been up since 3:30 in the morning and had dealt with a fussy child all day long. My baby was not eating or napping as she should. It was one of those days when I could do nothing right. I felt alone, exhausted, and frustrated. I had convinced myself that life could not get any worse. When my husband walked through the door, I was ready. I had on my new Asics running shoes and my iPod was clipped to my shorts. I did a quick lateral baby handoff to my husband and I was out of the door headed for the Y. I was still in a rotten mood when I arrived and barely mustered a “hello” for the way-too-friendly lady at the front desk. I was there to run and not be bothered.
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