It's okay that I didn't vacuum yesterday. Or the day before. Or even the day before that.
It's okay that when I did vacuum today, Jack cried because he didn't want to be in his bouncer. I wish I could have finished faster and taken him out sooner.
It's okay that just before I did take him out of the bouncer, I stopped to take a picture because his sad face is too darn cute.
It's okay if most of my lunches are of the frozen or take-out variety.
It's okay to get a little irritated when Jack wakes up from his nap earlier than expected. As long as I go in to get him with a smile on my face (I mean, how could I not? Look at this guy) so he doesn't see that I'm upset.
It's okay to spend said naptime reading US Weekly while watching Lifetime and snacking on Veggie Straws. The dishes can wait until the next nap. If there is one.
It's okay not to take Jack to the park every day, or to go for a walk. It's chilly out (70 degrees, people!) and windy.
It's okay if our only outing for the day is to Target.
It's okay to sit on the floor and pretend to play while watching reruns of Friends. Stacking the same tower of blocks over and over is boring, but I always take a moment to watch the big smile on his face when he knocks it down.
It's okay that Jack fell down and smacked his head on the wood floor. Again. Even though you were right there watching him, but it happened too quickly to stop. He'll be fine after a few snuggles and kisses.
It's okay that it's only 12 o'clock but I'm already looking forward to 6:30...bedtime!
It's okay that I constantly look at the clock. Really? It's only 1?
It's okay that I have never made my own baby food for Jack. Pinterest promises that it's easy and budget-friendly, but Jack really likes Plum and Ella baby food. I think he'd be mad if I switched right now. Really.
It's okay if I turn on an episode of Family Guy and watch it with Jack in my lap, sucking his thumb with his blanket. For some reason he will sit and watch nearly an entire 30 minute episode without moving a muscle, which I'm okay with for now. In a few months, when his language really begins to develop and he just might begin to understand the Griffins, it won't be okay. But for now, I'll consider it extra snuggle time.
It's okay that I read to Jack almost every night even though he doesn't pay a bit of attention. He will one day.
It's okay that I bought a third set of the entire Harry Potter series with the new cover illustrations just for Jack. I can't wait to read them to him one day!
It's okay if I change Jack into his nighttime diaper but leave him in the clothes he wore all day. Why dirty his pajamas?
It's okay if as soon as his head hits the pillow, I go to the kitchen and pour myself a big ole glass of wine. (Well, not a literal pillow, because SIDS.)
It's okay if I skip dinner and eat ice cream instead. I'm an adult, after all.
It's okay if I turn on an episode of Family Guy and watch it with Jack in my lap, sucking his thumb with his blanket. For some reason he will sit and watch nearly an entire 30 minute episode without moving a muscle, which I'm okay with for now. In a few months, when his language really begins to develop and he just might begin to understand the Griffins, it won't be okay. But for now, I'll consider it extra snuggle time.
It's okay that I read to Jack almost every night even though he doesn't pay a bit of attention. He will one day.
It's okay that I bought a third set of the entire Harry Potter series with the new cover illustrations just for Jack. I can't wait to read them to him one day!
It's okay if I change Jack into his nighttime diaper but leave him in the clothes he wore all day. Why dirty his pajamas?
It's okay if as soon as his head hits the pillow, I go to the kitchen and pour myself a big ole glass of wine. (Well, not a literal pillow, because SIDS.)
It's okay if I skip dinner and eat ice cream instead. I'm an adult, after all.
It's okay that there are dishes in the sink. Really. It is.
It's okay that I stop reading my book every few minutes to listen for a whimper or a cry come from Jack's room.
It's okay to go in and check on him before I go to bed, even though the floor by his door creaks and I risk waking him up.
It's okay that I hate sleeping alone and I miss my husband. He'll be back in three short days.
It's okay to go to bed with every intention of watching an episode of Orphan Black or reading another chapter or two of The Silkworm, but instead fall asleep and wake up with a book on my face and the Late Late Show on the television.
It's okay not to be perfect. With Pinterest telling me I should be crafting and baking, television families and reality TV stars modeling how mothers can "do it all," I often feel as though I'm not doing everything I should. Or could. My days aren't perfect, but I'm enjoying my summer with Jack (and my hubby when he's here). I think sometimes I judge myself, my feelings, and what I do or don't do during the day a little too harshly. I bet I'm not the only one who feels this way. It's easy to compare myself to what I envision as being the "perfect" mother or the "perfect" spouse, but I'm trying to realize that really, no one else is judging me and I truly am my own worst critic.
And if there IS anyone out there judging me, it's okay to tell them to keep their opinions to themselves. I know I'm being the best mom I can be and that's the only thing that matters.
It's okay that I stop reading my book every few minutes to listen for a whimper or a cry come from Jack's room.
It's okay to go in and check on him before I go to bed, even though the floor by his door creaks and I risk waking him up.
It's okay that I hate sleeping alone and I miss my husband. He'll be back in three short days.
It's okay to go to bed with every intention of watching an episode of Orphan Black or reading another chapter or two of The Silkworm, but instead fall asleep and wake up with a book on my face and the Late Late Show on the television.
It's okay not to be perfect. With Pinterest telling me I should be crafting and baking, television families and reality TV stars modeling how mothers can "do it all," I often feel as though I'm not doing everything I should. Or could. My days aren't perfect, but I'm enjoying my summer with Jack (and my hubby when he's here). I think sometimes I judge myself, my feelings, and what I do or don't do during the day a little too harshly. I bet I'm not the only one who feels this way. It's easy to compare myself to what I envision as being the "perfect" mother or the "perfect" spouse, but I'm trying to realize that really, no one else is judging me and I truly am my own worst critic.
And if there IS anyone out there judging me, it's okay to tell them to keep their opinions to themselves. I know I'm being the best mom I can be and that's the only thing that matters.
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