"My Little Ballerina"

I love all things girly. I love dressing up, clothes, shoes, make-up, toiletries, perfume, jewelry, and romantic comedies. I also love ballet. When I was little, I wanted to be a ballerina. I wanted to be a missionary/ballerina to be exact. Isn’t it funny that kids often have two diametrically different jobs they’d like to do simultaneously? How I was going to make ballerina/missionary work is still unclear, but I was unwavering nonetheless. During my lifetime I have done some mission work in Africa, but needless to say, I’m not a ballerina!

When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted a girl. I did not want a boy. I prayed for a girl. Some may find this repulsive, scolding me that I should only have prayed for a healthy baby. Well, scold me. Before I entered the sonogram room on week 20 to find out what I was having, I prayed that if the baby had a penis, God would miraculously remove it. Yes, yes, yes….I wanted a healthy baby. I just wanted a healthy baby girl. When people would ask if I had a preference as to a boy or girl, I would unequivocally say, “GIRL.”

Now that I have my baby girl, I want a ballerina. I do. I am bound and determined to make my daughter into a ballerina. Yes, I want my daughter to pursue her passions and dreams and blah, blah, blah. However, I want her to pursue them wearing a tutu. Visions of The Nutcracker, Swan’s Lake, and So You Think You Can Dance twirl in my mind.  I mean come on…her name alone screams dancer. Selah Marie Jackson. Can’t you just see it printed in a program? I can!

Yes. Unabashedly I will live vicariously through my daughter and fulfill my dancer dreams. I always wanted to be a ballerina. My husband keeps telling me it’s not too late….I just think he wants to see me in a leotard!!

Okay. In the end, I will support my daughter in her endeavors and dreams.  However, I will try and push her toward ballet…I am a mom after all. It’s kind of a God given right to make your kids do things.  For now, my little ballerina is only interested in eating her tutu and sucking her toes…and I couldn’t be more proud!

"Baby Poop"

“All new parents develop an unexpected interest in bowel movements and baby poop.” Uh yes. This was the first sentence of an article I saw on the website -WebMD…as I was looking up some information on baby poop.

Yup! I’m a mom now! Bowel movements, the color of snot, diapers, and puke…great topics of conversation. When I was without a child, I couldn’t stand being around mothers of young children.  I thought they were plain crazies. I knew if I ever became a mom, such conversational topics would not come out of my mouth. Baby showers made me cringe and I had only attempted to change one diaper in my life…and he peed on me, which left me screaming and scarred for life.

And then I had a baby. I literally began talking about poop since the second my daughter was born.  You can’t avoid it. In fact, the hospital wanted me to document the color, the consistency, and the number of movements per day! I was in shock and horror. But wait…not only did I have to adjust my brain to now include documentation of bowel movements, but I also learned that babies projectile poop. The first time this happened, I about fell over. Nevertheless, I learned and grew quite comfortable changing diapers and catching shooting poop!

Soon I became acclimated to all that related to bowel movements….AND THEN my daughter started eating solids. Oh crap…now I had to amend my understanding once again.

What’s worse is that I know this will be a main staple of my conversational repertoire for several years to come. Even once kids are potty trained, it seems they still need help wiping. Dear Lord, help me.

Motherhood brings such new and exciting challenges. But it also brings poop or should I say, “poopy doopy.”

On top of accepting the fact that I’ve become what I vowed I never would, I’m learning how to successfully work full-time outside my home and still give all of me to both my daughter and my husband. The balancing act of new mom and working full-time is leaving me literally and figuratively pooped! And I wouldn’t have it any other way.