"Baby"

So apparently I am not a very good blogger.  Unless updating every seven months or so is acceptable, then in that case I am doing okay.

I never realized how fast time goes until having Solomon.  Since my last post, he crossed the line from infant to toddler.  I understand now why baby does not fall into a specific age category.  I also understand why women will say to their grown children, "you will always be my baby".  You never hear them say, "you will always be my infant".  A baby is considered newborn for 30 days (some say more, some say less, whatever...you get the point).  Then they are considered an infant until they turn one. Then BAM...toddler.  Solomon turned one on October 1st, 2013.

I completely understand why the label changes from infant to toddler so dramatically after the first birthday.  In some ways, it becomes significantly easier, and in some ways it becomes significantly more exhausting.  When Solomon was an infant I spent countless hours washing bottles, bottle parts, breast pump accessories, etc.  Literally, every other day, I would spend about a hour washing all these necessary infant components.  I stopped breastfeeding when Solomon was around eight months old.  He pretty much stopped the bottle right at one.  He never got a bottle when going to sleep or anything like that, so it was easy.  As we transitioned him from formula to milk, we just gave him milk in sippy cups.

Also right around one, Solomon started walking.  This meant not having to carry him constantly from point a to point b.  Sure he could crawl, but there are many places where you don't want those little hands to go.  Sometime between then and now, he has even started walking from our car into the house.  This frees up a lot of hands to carry things in from the car.

Something else in the last seven months that has made being a mother a little easier, is Solomon's ability to communicate.  Every day he is learning new words.  It is amazing to watch him grow, and watch how he takes in the world around him.  He listens when you tell him to do something, and most of the time he is able to tell you what he wants.

Solomon didn't fully sleep through the night until around one either.  Now we lay him down, most of the time still awake, he falls asleep on his own and sleeps through the night.

 My "toddler" with his own yogurt cup for the first time.

What's the point of all this?  It's that often I question whether my baby is still considered a baby.  Sure, he will always be my baby, but he already doesn't need me as much as I need him to need me.  I guess that will never go away.  I try to remember the times I struggled with so much when he was an infant.  I try to remember how frustrating breastfeeding was.  I try to remember how hard it was to rock him for four hours straight every night for about six weeks, while he went through his fussy spell.  Truth is, I don't remember it very well at all.  I often was still and took the time to appreciate that period was going to pass much faster than I wanted.  That while it was hard, it would be a short amount of time in the span of my life. Truth is, I miss it so much I tear up just writing this.  I remind myself of this daily with the frustrations that come along with having a toddler.  This too will pass far faster than I will ever anticipate.

I am making a significant change in my life today.  I am deleting my social media accounts...for good.  I left facebook for a few months around the end of 2013.  It was refreshing to not have the constant feeling I needed to check it.  Then I quickly found myself taken over by another source for distraction, instagram.  I found this whole world of instagram shops, and even started sewing leggings to sell in a shop I created myself.  This took every bit of attention that having facebook took.  So I logged back into my facebook and have been engulfed ever since.  I do not want my son to remember me as a mommy who was constantly staring at my phone or other electronic device.  I find myself wanting to take pictures of Solomon, not just to have as sweet memories, but so I can show the people I'm connected with on these accounts.  I don't want it to be like that.  I have an amazing life, and I want to appreciate it for what it is.  Not for what I can make it look like to other people.  Millions and billions of people went through their whole lives without social media, I can too.    I don't want anything to take away from sweet moments I may miss like these...

Because motherhood.

Spare the rod, spoil the child

I feel like we are at a crucial point in adjusting Solomon's behavior as a toddler.  And it's hard.  Like everything else, so not sure why I expected this to be easy.  It snuck up on me.  This is my baby...my little baby.  I don't want to tell him no, or smack his hands, or make him cry because he's not getting what he wants.  So how do I keep my kid from becoming a brat?  How do I determine enough is enough?

Most of my life I thought the verse in this title meant literally, to put the rod away and spoil your child. Sometime during my adulthood i found out the true meaning...

"Whoever spares the rod hates their children,
    but the one who loves their children is careful to discipline them."  Proverbs 13:24

Before I gave birth to Solomon, I was a solid advocate for spanking.  I would say things like, "that's what is wrong with kids today", and "they have to know you are the boss".  Not that easy.  When we have to tell Solomon no, he gets the most pitiful look I have ever seen!  

Just look at that poor little face.  :(  How could I ever hurt his feelings???

But I have to.  I have to be strong and I have to be consistent.  If I don't I will pay immensely.  That doesn't mean it's easy. And what if I'm too hard on him?  I don't want to be a mean mommy!  And what if its already too late?  What if he is already ruined?  Oh well no point in trying, I should just continue to spoil him rotten, right?

So how do I know what is right?  The Internet tells me I should be an "attachment parent" that reasons with my one year old.  Then it also tells me I should leave my sweet innocent baby in a room to cry as hard as he possibly can, alone, in the dark, for an undetermined amount of time.  And if I do the attachment parenting I will have a 17 year old that doesn't wipe his own butt, but if I do the latter I will have a 17 year old that hates me so much he'll paint pictures about it!  Where is the happy medium?  How much discipline is good discipline, and how much is too much?  And where is my freaking owners manual for goodness sake?!?

By the way...sorry for the long delay between posts.  Apparently having a new toddler really is as exhausting,if not more exhausting, than having a newborn.  One of my friends put it best when she told me, "it's just a whole new kind of exhaustion".

Because motherhood.

The Best Day

So I have a confession.  It is not easy for me to tell you this, but it is necessary to prove a point.  When Solomon was little (he's still little, but I mean less than six weeks old), I let him cry.  I know, I know...worst mother ever!  Only two or three times, and only for 5-10 minutes tops.  And it wasn't let him cry in a mean way.  It was let him cry in a he was fed, diaper changed, clean clothes, had been holding him all day and I needed to get something done, kind of way.  Don't worry, I read these awful things on the internet about how emotionally traumatizing it was, so I didn't do it again.  During the crying time I kept telling myself that I couldn't spoil him.  That I couldn't let him think it was okay for him to want to be held constantly.  You hear these awful judgmental people (normally people who are not parents...I was one of them) talk about other babies, and how the baby is so spoiled, and wants to be held constantly etc etc.  I decided that I didn't care.  I decided that even if he did want to be held all the time, the being held period was short, and I would miss it one day.  I thought about how people tell you all the time to enjoy them while they are little, so I do.

I...spoil...my...baby...rotten.  I love on him all day, I stop what I'm doing to play with him, I hold him when he wants to be held, and I buy him lots of toys.  Don't get me wrong, we are already learning what "no" means, and he will use manners and be respectful.  But why can't I enjoy him and do things for him that make him smile?  Why should I worry about what other people think about my parenting style?  I feel bad for children whose parent's are so uptight they deprive their children of little happiness moments, just because they are afraid other people will think their child is spoiled.  Don't judge me.  Or at least if you do judge me, keep it to yourself.  AND if you don't keep it to yourself, expect me to turn into something similar to this...

My baby is adorable.  He is a happy, healthy baby, and I am taking full advantage of that.  You never know what tomorrow brings.  Do you think the parents of the children that have endured the awful scary things wish they hadn't of spoiled their child?  People can think whatever they want about my parenting style behind my back, and if they have the guts to tell me to my face they think my kid will be a brat, I welcome the opportunity.  I have some built up frustrations from other areas of my life that I would love to unload.  I tell my baby no when he does something he shouldn't, he will learn to use his manners, and I will teach him by example how to be a productive member of society.  However with all that in mind, my immediate goal is to make sure every day is the best day he has ever had.  To not let any opportunity for him to enjoy his childhood pass us by.  To enjoy him being a baby, toddler, little kid, and big kid.  To make sure he knows he is loved.  To make sure his memories only include best days.

Because motherhood.

Siblings

Will we ever have another child?  This is going to be a long one...

Up until the day that Solomon was born, I said I wanted to have a second child very soon.  I wanted two children very close together.  People said I was crazy.  I said I wanted to go through all the craziness at once, then it would be smooth sailing.  I thought I would have preferred that over getting comfortable with one child, and then starting over.  Obviously I didn't know just how much craziness there would be.  Don't get me wrong, if I were to get pregnant again right now we would love the next child just as much as we do Solomon.  We would embrace God's gift to us, and we would survive.  Probably.  My feelings on having a second child have changed dramatically.  IF we do, it will be several years before we will be ready.  There are a lot of reasons that I'm not even sure if I would want another child...ever.

I would love for Solomon to have a sibling, but at the same time I'm afraid I won't have as much love for him if I were to have to share that love with another tiny human.  This love is amazing, I don't want to tamper with it.  When I think about having another child, it makes me feel guilty that Solomon wouldn't be "the baby" anymore (that whole crazy guilt thing again).  Not to mention the amount of work it is to have one child, I can't imagine with two.  When you are fully committed, 120%, every second of every day to a tiny human, how do you share that with another?  I have a few friends that I have talked to recently who have, within the last year, had a second child.  No way would any of them say they "regret" having a second child, but I can see in their face that the amount of work it is, is just as surprisingly hard as getting use to having one. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for that.  Granted I already feel like, even at eight months old, things have gotten a lot easier.  So I'm not sold either way, but if I absolutely had to make a decision right now, my answer to having a second would be no. 



Breastfeeding

Breastfeeding is hard.  It's really really hard.  No seriously, it is super hard.  I struggled every single day with breastfeeding.  I don't think I could start over with breastfeeding, and how could I breastfeed one child and not another?  I am a very determined, some people would say stubborn, person.  I made up my mind before I found out that I was pregnant that I was going to breastfeed.  There were no excuses for me.  Nothing would stop me.  I even made a "no bottle rule" for the hospital.  I said, unless I was dead or unconscious, that Solomon absolutely would not get a bottle at the hospital.  No matter what.  I knew with my determination that would not be hard for me, but I didn't want anyone else to pressure me into the decision not to breastfeed.  If I was going to make the decision not to, it would be in the comfort of my own home, alone, with no pressure.  The more my husband learned about breastfeeding, he agreed to back me up.  And I made it.  My little guy latched like a champ within 10 minutes of being born.  I fed him consistently in the hospital, and for several weeks after we got home.  He was always full and content.  "Sweet this is easy", I thought, "What is everyone always complaining about?"  Then we hit the first growth spurt.  Solomon was about 4-5 weeks old.  He wanted to eat every hour, and he would eat for about 45 minutes at a time.  This went on for three days straight.  Even during the night.  Yes...do the math.  That was 15 minute breaks for mommy every 45 mintues, and THAT WAS IT.  I cried, I thought my milk had dried up, I thought it was over.  I told my husband to go buy formula, but luckily he refused.  We ended up going to the doctor, where we had just been 4 days before, and I found out that my baby had gained a pound.  In four days, he gained a freaking pound.  I didn't even know that was possible.  That was before I had returned to work, thank goodness.  I returned to work when Solomon was 7 weeks old (way too soon, I know).  I had only pumped a few times before I went back to work, so I had a very small stash of frozen milk at home.  Pumping at work for the first few weeks was fine.  I would get enough milk for Solomon to have the next day, and then some days even had extra.  Then we hit another growth spurt.  Solomon jumped from 3 1/2 ounce bottles every three hours, to 5 ounce bottles every three hours. If he got any less than 5 ounces, he could scream when the bottle was all gone.  About the same time as the jump I got my first period.  Now some women say your period doesn't affect your supply.  However some women also say you will have an "endless" supply.  Yea right.  Let me just be the first to tell you that some women have no idea what they are talking about.  About a week before I got my first period I went from getting 5-7 ounces in a pumping session to 2-3 ounces.   On my days off I would pump in between his feedings (he would eat every three hours, so every hour and a half I would pump or feed him).  As you can imagine this didn't do much for my social life.  It was rough.  Finally, a couple weeks after Solomon turned 6 months old, I broke down and decided to supplement. I only decided this after going through several bottles of fenugreek, drinking sick amounts of water, trying this horrible mother's milk tea, and pumping for ridiculous amounts of time just to keep up with him. I found something online that confirmed all the benefits I had offered my baby by exclusively breastfeeding for the first 6 months.   It was a relief to have formula to fall back on.  I got to stop the crazy constant worrying about having enough, and the time consuming extra pumping sessions.  A few days after Solomon turned eight months old, we stopped breastfeeding completely.

Thinking about no longer having these sweet moments does very hurtful things to my heart.

But it just wasn't working.  I was getting less than an ounce from two pumping sessions each day.  Solomon would get frustrated when I would try to feed him, and that was frustrating for me.  In a way, he kind of weaned himself.  Breastfeeding is a commitment.  I absolutely encourage women to breastfeed.  The money we spend on formula now is enough to make me want to try and start again.  If I could do it without pumping, I would.  I am proud of how much we accomplished, but disappointed we didn't get to end on my terms.  Breastfeeding is hard.  It's really ... really hard.

Purple Crying

You may or may not have heard this term before.  This isn't something people tell you about before you get pregnant.  You have probably heard of colic, and experienced the occasional visits to restaurants where there is a screaming baby. Those things are not really what I am talking about.  When Solomon was about 6 weeks old (keep in mind I went back to work when he was 7 weeks old), he started crying every night about the same time.  After the first couple of days I took him to the doctor.  There had to be something wrong with my poor baby, he was screaming at the top of his lungs!  The doctor told us he had reflux, and gave us a prescription.  The crying continued.  A week later we went back, got a stronger prescription, the crying still continued.  Solomon would start crying around 8:00 pm, and would continue to cry until around 1:00 am.  I would rock him, sing to him, anything to try and soothe him, but nothing worked.  I thought I was going to lose my mind.  A lot of nights I would sit and rock him while he screamed, and I would cry too.  When a mommy cannot comfort her baby, the heart ache is excruciating. My schedule at work was 10:00a-7:00p.  I would get off at 7:00, run home to do everything I could (usually getting my pump and bottles ready for the next day, maybe get to eat) before the crying would start at 8:00.  Then I would rock him, or run around pulling my hair out while my husband rocked him, until 1:00a. Only to go to bed the second he finally passed out, and wake up the next day to start over.  There was no "mommy time", after he would go to bed.  He didn't go to bed unless I did.  Finally, a girl from my pregnancy group told me about this website.  The period of purple crying.  A period.  That would end.  And it did.  A couple days before Solomon turned 3 months old, it just stopped.  I barely remember what those days were like now, and I feel like that was a lifetime ago.  However that went on for about 7 weeks, and during the time that 7 weeks felt like a lifetime itself.  So I wonder, if I were to have a second child, how would I handle that and a toddler?  Of course the second child may not experience the period of purple crying, but WHAT IF they do?

Fear

There is a fear that a woman experiences after she becomes a mother.  It is constant, and unavoidable.  It is the fear of something happening to her child.  Something that would be irreversible and detrimental to the child's health.  Or even worse... (I can't say it).  That fear is so great, and you feel so helpless.  Tragic events involving children are rare, but still as a mother you fear the worst.  This is why so many moms are so over protective.  It's hard not to think about the bad stuff.  When Solomon was smaller, I read a blog one of the girls had posted in my pregnancy group.  I'm going to go ahead and tell you, that I do not recommend reading it.  I cried so hard. I cried for days after I read it.  But if you dare...here is the link.  When you hear about a tragedy involving a child as a mother, it hurts on a whole new level.   You can almost feel the pain the mother of the child has experienced.  You think about the possibility of something similar happening to your child, and that makes you sick to your stomach.  The fear and worry for one child is so great, how could I handle that fear multiplied.  

I have to work

I understand that being a stay at home mom is a lot of work.  I have a lot of respect for stay at home moms, and I don't want to offend anyone.  However being a working mom, is SO much harder than being a stay at home mom.  We would have been able to continue breastfeeding if I could stay at home.  It hurts EVERY DAY leaving my baby to go to work.  It's not natural.  A woman should be with her baby.  I have to go to work 40 hours a week, and I still have to do all the things a stay at home mom does.  It is financially impossible for me to stay home (trust me, I have done the math every which way possible every day for the last eight months).  I couldn't imagine having to leave another child to go to work.

Recently someone said something to me along the lines of women who use to work out in the fields every day could have four or five kids without missing a beat, but yet women today can barely handle one.  I told them it's not that I couldn't do it, its that I don't want to, and I have a choice.  Not to toot my own horn or anything, but women are strong.  We can handle a lot.  And we do.  We become these super humans after we have a child, that display these super strengths. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.  Since I started this post, I told my husband that I think I will want another child.  Not today, probably not in the next year, but one day.  I already can't believe my baby is closer to being a toddler than a baby!  It goes so fast.  Everyone tells you that, but it really does.   Every day is amazing in a whole new way, but you still miss all the sweet moments you have with your little baby. 

I will miss this.

Because motherhood. 

Solomon

I thought it was time to introduce the star to this show...

The one who has taken my heart, and made it do things I didn't realize were possible...

I love him.  Actually the word "love" doesn't even describe it.  A word that is used so lightly every day can't begin to describe the feeling I have for this tiny human.

"I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him."  1 Samuel 1:27

And I did pray for him.  I prayed for him every single day of the fifteen months it took us to get pregnant.  It's not all hard.  For every bad moment, there are a hundred amazing moments that take your breath away.  

Like this moment...

Yes motherhood has been much harder than I expected, but only because I thought I knew exactly what to expect.  I had no idea.  About any of it.  There are so many emotions that come along with being a mother.  Maybe it is the hormones, or maybe it is something much bigger than that.  Maybe it is because the way you look at everything changes.  I can barely make it though a diaper commercial without tearing up.  It is the most amazing thing I have ever done, and will probably ever do.  I wouldn't change anything about it.  

And now for a little comic relief...

Sometimes you find a binky in the jewelry holder you paid way too much for in the before times (before times being before motherhood of course),

because motherhood.

Guilt and Worry...Worry and Guilt

I stayed home from work today.  This has been a rough week in my house, and I missed work the past two days as well.  Let me try and explain how physically and emotionally exhausting it is to care for an infant while you yourself feel like you are going to die.  Imagine the hardest thing you have ever had to do.  Maybe it was participating in a triathlon, or something similar.  Now imagine doing it while you are exhausted, and then repeating it for 10 days straight.  Ok now imagine doing it again, but this time while you are sick.  The sick that normally leaves you laid up in bed with no contact with the outside world for at least 48 hours.  I will tell you, no matter how physically sick you are, it doesn't compare to the sickness you feel in your stomach thinking your little one could end up feeling this way.  I thought my biggest worry of the week had come true last night, I thought my son was getting this awful stomach bug.
Normally he is up at 8:00 am like clockwork, but we had a pretty long night.  There was a bit of crying, a terrible diaper before bed time, and I swear if my neighbors didn't hear his gas, they had to have smelled it.  So this morning around 8:20 am, while he was sleeping on my chest better than he had slept all night, I finally decided to let my boss know I was going to stay home again today.  I wanted to be home with him if he was going to go through this, but I also wasn't feeling too hot after being up all night.  He woke up around 8:50 am and we came into the living room for our morning "bites".  After I fed him he played for a little while.  I watched him as he played, and I thought to myself, maybe it was just something he ate and he will be fine.  Maybe I should go on into work.  After all, I'm pretty sure this will use my last sick day, and if I get ready now I'll be less than two hours late.  As for me?  I have a slight headache and I've only gone to the bathroom three times this morning.  I doubt I'm even contagious anymore.  But what does any of this have to do with me?

This is where it gets hard.
The guilt...he already knows we're in routine for him to be spending the day with mommy.  What if I break his heart by leaving him now.  I know it will break mine.  How do I give up a day with him that I have already been given permission to have?  Voluntarily...by deciding to go into work.
The worry...It is my fault that this may be my last sick day.  I could have gone to work when my three month old had his first cold (1 day).  I could have gone to work, and waited on a phone call while my dad was in the hospital (2 days).  The rash my son had a couple weeks ago turned out to just be eczema, it could have waited rather than taking time off work to take him to the doctor (1/2 day).  I only get 6 days a year.  One of the last two days I asked for in advance, so it didn't count as a sick day.  The other day and today will.  That is 5 1/2 days.   It is May.  I don't worry about me getting sick, I worry about him.
The worry...What if something happens or he gets sick?  We have to go through a whole half of winter season!  What if I start to leave for work one day when he's not feeling well as a small toddler, so he clings to me?  I know I won't be able to leave him.  I know I won't.  So I know I will get in trouble at work, because I have used all 6 of my sick days.
The guilt...I shouldn't have to worry about anything but him.  He should be my only priority, and if I want to be able to comfortably stay home with him today just in case he needs extra snuggles, I should be able to do that.

Then I pick him up and he curls his little legs up to me and sinks his head into my chest...yea, mommy is not going anywhere today.  

This is not the only time I have felt an extreme amount of guilt or worry over something that may have otherwise seemed manageable.  For example, the first day I was sick, as hard as it was on me I kept him with me.  I didn't even ask anyone to come and help because I knew that would be my only day off with him for another week.  Plus I had just given up a day with him to clean the house less than a week ago.  So I sucked it up, and I took care of him myself (at this point I thought I had ate something, never would have thought I could be contagious). As hard as it was on me, it was easier than handling the guilt of not spending the day with him.

I can't handle seeing or hearing anything about a child who is sick.  Not sick like get better sick, sick like big time sick.  I do not know how mothers handle that, and my heart aches for them.  When I look into the eyes of those children, I see the innocence of my son looking back at me.  I worry constantly.  What is this bump?  Has he peed enough? Is he peeing too much?  Should his poop look like that?  Is this normal?  My husband would tell me not to.  He would tell me, "The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit" (Proverbs 18:21).  And I completely agree, so I am ever so careful not to think or speak the worst.  But then I worry what if my faith leads me to denial.  Maybe I worry because the enemy is trying to make me think my faith will lead me to denial.  Or maybe, just maybe I worry,

because motherhood.

A Name

I mentioned before that I had thought a lot about a name for this blog.  I probably would have started it two months ago, but I didn't like any of the names that came to my mind.  I wanted something catchy, but to the point.  I wanted it to be something people would remember.  I wanted it to make an impact at first impression.  It needed to explain a lot in a few simple words.  Things I considered were "Unexpected Motherhood", "Definition of Motherhood", and "To Parenthood and Beyond" (yes this came from a Toy Story reference).  None of these names summarized my feelings, and well, they're pretty corny.  How do I say something in a few short words, that I am struggling to say with unlimited words?

I took our son to my grandparents yesterday so I could get my house clean. That was the first time I have done anything like that.  Other than work, a couple date nights, and one whole day of not being able to open my eyes (long story), he has been with me.  I have said to myself several times, "my house is a mess but my kid is super happy."  I'll say it while I take a deep breathe, as reassurance that it is ok my house is a mess.   And it is, because he is more important.   I also came across a poem one day, and it stuck with me...

So true.  On the rare occasion I do get a few extra minutes to get some stuff done, all I can do is spin around in circles thinking about everything I need to do.  By the time I stop spinning, my extra time is up.  But that's not the kind of stuff I'm talking about when I talk about this all being harder than I expected.  I expected that stuff to be hard.  The physical part is exhausting sometimes, but manageable.  

I'm talking about the asking for help part.  Everyone tells you not to be afraid to ask for help after you have had a baby.  So why don't we?  The problem is by help, they mean them keeping your child for a while so you can get other stuff done.  I don't want other people to keep my child.  It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that...well...I want someone to do everything else, so I can spend every waking minute gawking over this amazing little person that my husband and I have created.  Besides, what if they don't feed him the right amount at the right time, or what if they don't know the difference between a hurt cry and a tired cry, or what if they get frustrated with him?  I have several sitters lined up for when we need one.  Most of them would do it for free.  But I'm already away from him 40+ hours a week with work, there is no way I am lightly sparing any of my mommy baby time.  So yesterday, I cleaned my heart out.  I was not going to let one minute away from my precious baby go to waste.  Did I get a lot done?  Yes.  Did it feel good?  Felt great.  Will I do it again? Maybe in seven months or so.  

Back to the name.  I had decided I would post an introduction to the blog and call it "I Need a Name".  I would share it with friends and family, and see what they suggested.  So I sat down at my computer and went on to learn how to start the blog.  I quickly figured out that idea was not going to work.  I needed to create a domain, and I wanted the domain to contain the title.  So I called my husband in the room.  I had told him my ideas and why I wanted to start a blog earlier in the day, so he already knew the point I was trying to get across.  We brainstormed through a few things like "Where is my manual", "Power of the Tiny Humans", and "Upside Down Mommy" (I really liked this one, but I didn't want people to think I'm crazy.  I may be crazy, but I still don't want people to think it).  As you can see, the titles had more of a humorous take when we were brainstorming together.  That's pretty much how we roll.  And then he said it.  And I loved it.

For those that don't know, we are car people.  We also have a lot of car people friends.  We are both in agreement we will train our son to be a famous race car driver so we can retire early (Formula 1, not nascar.  Just so there isn't any confusion). There is an internet joke that goes around.  It uses funny phrases and situations to highlight how awesome race cars are.  

That is why when he said the title I immediately knew it was perfect.  Somewhat humorous, but to the point and very matter of fact. 

Being the type of person I am, I had to make sure the title would make sense.  So I googled the definition of motherhood...

the kinship relation between an offspring and the mother

 ...and then I googled the definition of kinship...

Blood relationship.

A sharing of characteristics or origins.

THAT'S IT?  Motherhood is defined as the blood relationship between my son and I, and the sharing of our genes?  Who writes this stuff??  Are they a mother?  Any mother knows there is so much more than the sharing of blood and genes.  What about the love?  So I have come up with a much more appropriate definition of motherhood.  

A euphoric state that makes a woman be able to handle

physical and emotional situations which would otherwise be impossible.

An overwhelming mixture of nurturing, joy, happiness, worry, guilt and many

other emotions that take over a woman's spirit after she has a child.  

Because motherhood.