Since "Cortney" became "Momma"

"Everything changes when you become a mother!" It’s a cliché, and I hate clichés. But it’s also a truth. And it beats me over the head like a ton of bricks on a daily basis. I was scared to death of becoming a mother. A sort of self-confidence I lacked. However, since she graced us with her presence, in her own time as she wouldn't be rushed, I have learned so much and my journey through motherhood is just beginning. I can say with absolute certainty that my own understanding and experience of life has changed immeasurably since and I’m still trying to learn to navigate not just the logistics of life with a baby, but a very new emotional terrain.
I have come to realize that no matter what I do my house will never be squeaky clean again for longer than a cowboy can stay on a bucking bull.
I thought I hated laundry... magnify that feeling by the distance to the moon and your still a bit short.
I have always been a fan of loud movies n music, but now I find myself driving in silence and loud noises just make me mad. Silence to simply hear myself think is my new forte.
I laugh more and love harder.
I want to throat chop ignorant people who comment on how a mother handles her crying child. It's not your business. Can't handle the crying feel free to escort yourself out. It's obvious she loves when her child cries and is upset... said no one ever! She's doing the absolute best she can, so before you judge and make snide comments just know you don't want to be on the other end of a mad mother's throat chop and not much makes me madder.
I would choose going to bed early over any night out. I love going to the movies... I just love sleep more! 

Sleeping in until 8am is as magical as a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
I am stronger emotionally so my family can’t sense the stresses of my life. Instead I cry in the shower because it is the only time I might get 5 minutes of uninterrupted time to myself.
I am less brave. Or, possibly, less stupid. I used to be more of a risk-taker. Now, how my actions affect my baby is my first concern in everything I do.
I have lost touch with people in my life who I should have banished a long time ago.
Every day is a surprise. It's almost as if that fat little man in red is climbing down my chimney every night. 

Bodily functions are no longer repulsive. In fact, they make me cheer and clap hands. (Hooray for poop!)
I check my baby out in the mirror instead of myself. "Yuup she looks good we can leave the house, no one is gonna look at me anyways!"
Every stretch mark has become a beauty mark. I made her... every bit of her!
Some of my favorite most memorable conversations only consisted of words like, "na-na, ba-ba, nas" followed by some over-excited screams and giggles.
The sacrifices I thought I made to have my daughter no longer seem like sacrifices, but blessings of strength. It proved to me how strong I am.
I have a whole new respect for my parent’s esp. my mother. She feels for me as I do for my daughter. Bless her for all she has seen me through!
My daughter is my heaven. I have never been happier in my life and I see now looking back that our family was missing something all along. Her! She was the fix to the empty that we didn't even know was empty until now.
She is also my hell. I love her and need her way more than she needs me. When she is hurt or cries it is heart breaking. The mere thought of ever losing her is my deepest inferno. I live for that smile, those dimples, her already I-am-gonna-hate-one-day attitude, her holding my hand, the slobbery kisses, all of it; pure joy it brings!
I hurt when it's not my turn to hurt. Recently over Facebook I saw a girl my age lose her 5 month old son to SIDS. I wholeheartedly feel another mother’s pain. I can’t imagine what it feels like to lose a child. I couldn't before I had my own baby, but now whenever I hear of such losses, all I can think about is how, once upon a time, that mommy had high hopes and dreams for her baby. How her heart melted as mine with every smile and coo. How her life changed as mine did. How she fought through the same struggles as I did as a new mother. How together the mommy-baby bond was formed. I am not saying that I would not have cried at the same story before I had my daughter, or that people without children would not shed tears over it. But the feelings behind my tears – the fiery, gut-wrenching pain that aches within me when my mind even flirts near the real question that arises with every story of loss: what if it were my baby being taken from me? – are awful and new and something I fear I wouldn't be strong enough to handle with such grace as she did. Some women really are super heroes.
The day my daughter was born I knew looking into her eyes that I was meant to be her mother and that even though we did not plan to get pregnant in anyway her and God had different plans for our family. Every day is a new adventure and life is so much better and brighter seeing everything new again through her eyes. She really is the light of our lives and I could not imagine our lives any other way. Bring on the change!
*Come what may & love it!*

Fifty Shades of Black

I rather feel the pain of a broken bone than have the flu for even a day and because of this, of course, I get the flu! I get the flu, 3 hrs later my hubs gets the flu, followed by my sister... all in a small 1 bathroom apartment all night long! Ha that was fun, said no one EVER! Trying to take care of an 8 month old baby who is cranky herself, mostly because she probably doesn't feel good either, with nursing in between every horribly ungracious attempt to give my guts to the toilet I, after 36 hours, made it out alive... By alive I mean I was breathing, but the massive fever had me laid out for the rest of that given day! With that fever's farewell dehydration took hand-in-hand my milk with it. No worries, with mass amount of fluids and stimulation pumping it came back, thank goodness! Is my baby old enough that she would be just fine without nursing, yes, but when I am a working mother and that is all I can do for her to comfort her, when that is our time to bond after the day passed with no momma, I will be damned if anyone or anything will take that away until I am ready, furthermore, until she is ready. It's the one thing that I can do for her that no one else in the world can and yes I may be at extremes, but when I have to give up so much right now to provide the life I want for her, I will not give up anything that is in my control. I am her momma and nothing can take that away from me!

This however, was just one shade of black. I wake the next morning following my fever and all signs point up, ha not! I had no voice and I involuntarily allowed my lungs to get wrapped in a spider’s web and find exit through my throat...aka, Bronchitis! Fabulous! 

I get home from work where we worked all day short-handed, where I had to stay an extra half hour to help, and then hit rush hour on my way home. My spotless house that I had cleaned and disinfected in the spare time I had using any energy I could find before I went back to 7 days of work( I had to search really hard for that energy) was a disaster. Trying not to cry and completely lose it I took a couple deep breaths and held my baby. Her excitement and spastic movements in my arms pushed aside my upset thoughts and we played! 

It's supper time. Too exhausted to cook I throw some frozen meatloaf and funeral potatoes from my deep freeze that my grams made into the oven. (Bless her heart) Okay, you know when you scribble with a pencil on a piece of paper holding down on the wood with as much pressure as you can to get the darkest shade of scribbles? Well, that is where supper took us. I told my husband to watch the baby and I would dish up food for him and bring it to him (yes we are eating in the living room because I was far too tired to set the table). My sister also dished up. I tasted supper as it is one of my favorite meals and practically start a replay of said previous encounters with the toilet. Both had probably 10 bags of full size onions in them. I HATE HATE HATE onions. Never liked them, never will! This to me was the end of the world, but with teary eyes I shook it off and put a bird’s size portion on my plate hoping to pick out the onions and maybe get a bite or two. Moments later Shel is in the kitchen. We walk back into the living room and my baby has spilled all of my newly opened dr.pepper all over my brand new floor rug (the rug I bought for her to crawl on so she didn't crawl on gross rental apartment carpets.) One of my finer moments as a mother, I bought this carpet in a dark brown on the edges and light white/tan in the middle. Guess where the pop spilled?? Yuuup, right beside the blow out poopy diaper or poopy carpet I should say!!! This was the final straw. I had tried so hard to stay composed but I lost it. My hubs let me vent without much word as I cleaned up the mess trying to hold back the tears. However, my sister hadn't learned that I don't want to be talked down or bothered just let me carry-on as I may and it'll pass. Needless to say I ended with an apology. 

As the steamy water poured down on me in hopes it would wash away all the bad the week entailed. It didn't, and I wept. In my hands, in the shower, for a good length of time, I simply cried. After I cried, I prayed! After I prayed, I cried! 

Not all days are bad...but even after the bad I still have my family who depend on me and need me. Turns out, I need them 1000 times more. They challenge me, they force me to see how strong I am and see my independence, sometimes they push me passed what I believe my threshold is, but when I think I am done they are the first ones cheering at the finish line as I drag myself across. I can do this and I will do this. They bring me pure joy no matter the day or the shade of black.

*come what may and love it!*