It is difficult being a mommy at times. There is this common misconception (at least in my perspective of the world) that it comes naturally ALL THE TIME. That once this little one is born, I should know what to do every single time he cries. That I should never forget to pack a single thing for him on any outing. I never once stopped to think about the sleepless nights I would experience once he was born. I had come to terms with waking up a million and one times in a night but never stopped to think about the few nights I would spend trying everything humanly possible to put my child to sleep. After spending 21 hours straight with no rest, no break, no nap and failing miserably to put my child to sleep I had come to terms that I was THE WORST MOTHER EVER. Not only because I couldn’t figure out what was going on with my son or how to fix it but because I was genuinely pissed off at my newborn. “GO. TO. F&%$ING. SLEEP!” I would beg between sobs while feeling a twinge of resentment that his father does not help a single bit. That he gets to go out with his friends whenever he wants and is able sleep 12, hell, 6 beautiful uninterrupted hours. I not only cried for my feeling of utter failure as a new mother but also for a life I did not think I missed. Finally, after driving my son around town for the second time this week to encourage a visit from the sandman, we drifted off into a short sleep. We woke the next morning with a smidgen of a rough start since feelings from the night before still lingered but then an amazing thing happened that changed everything. He smiled at me! Everything negative was forgotten as I basked in his brief smile that may have been caused by gas. Nonetheless it was a smile, even if just a flicker, as though to say, “you’re doing fine. You’re a good mommy and I love you to the moon and back.” I love you, too, son. And I’ll take the hard days with the easy if it means seeing that smile over and over again. And forget the resentment I feel towards his father, that’s just more baby boy for me to enjoy. Partying is an unfulfilling life style, now I have purpose even if it does bring me to tears. Nothing worth doing ever came easy, why should motherhood.