This could be an ad for Baby Björn. It's not. Every time I post about this carrier I get shit because it's not "ergonomic enough". Whatever the hell that means. It's easy as hell to strap yourself into and that's why I wear it. Doing everything perfectly as a mom is fucking EXHAUSTING! I'm constantly worrying about everything I'm doing wrong. On nights when she's up or when her naps are short I wonder; is she getting enough sleep? When she sleeps through the night and takes two-hour naps I wonder; is she sleeping too much? I worry about if she is too hot or too cold - we sleep in air conditioning and I agonize over whether the perfect temperature is 24 or 25 degrees Celsius/75.2 or 77F (with 24 I worry that she gets cold after a while? But at 25 I think maybe she should wear a pj without socks?). I worry about her eating - now that she is eating solids, should she still breastfeed as much? She loves oatmeal and cereal and only wants my boob a few times a day now. Is this normal? Is she eating too much? Too little? And her playtime - I worry we should be spending more time outside but when we're outside I feel like she is getting too much sun. And of course this is not even getting into all the ways I worry she might get injured or die, something that's at the front of my mind in absolutely everything I do. GODDAMMIT THE EXTENT OF MY WORRY IS ENDLESS. And not at all proportionate to what she actually needs. I know I'm doing a good job. A great job. She is so loved. She has everything she needs. Hell, she might be the luckiest baby of all time. She has a full time mom and a full time dad and a full time grandma and aunts and uncles that adore he and a whole tribe of people loving her so much. She is safe. Held. Everything is ok. And yes, somewhere along the way I'm going to fuck up. And that's going to be ok, too. I'm writing this sitting on the floor at the top of the staircase outside our bedroom, drinking a beer while listening to her fall asleep in her crib because our monitor is out of battery. All is well. This beer tastes so damn good. And right now, after writing this, I feel like a damn good mom. Thank you, vulnerability. You save me every time

yoga_girlさん(@yoga_girl)が投稿した動画 -

レイチェル・ブレイセンのインスタグラム(yoga_girl) - 9月27日 08時54分


This could be an ad for Baby Björn. It's not. Every time I post about this carrier I get shit because it's not "ergonomic enough". Whatever the hell that means. It's easy as hell to strap yourself into and that's why I wear it. Doing everything perfectly as a mom is fucking EXHAUSTING! I'm constantly worrying about everything I'm doing wrong. On nights when she's up or when her naps are short I wonder; is she getting enough sleep? When she sleeps through the night and takes two-hour naps I wonder; is she sleeping too much? I worry about if she is too hot or too cold - we sleep in air conditioning and I agonize over whether the perfect temperature is 24 or 25 degrees Celsius/75.2 or 77F (with 24 I worry that she gets cold after a while? But at 25 I think maybe she should wear a pj without socks?). I worry about her eating - now that she is eating solids, should she still breastfeed as much? She loves oatmeal and cereal and only wants my boob a few times a day now. Is this normal? Is she eating too much? Too little? And her playtime - I worry we should be spending more time outside but when we're outside I feel like she is getting too much sun. And of course this is not even getting into all the ways I worry she might get injured or die, something that's at the front of my mind in absolutely everything I do. GODDAMMIT THE EXTENT OF MY WORRY IS ENDLESS. And not at all proportionate to what she actually needs. I know I'm doing a good job. A great job. She is so loved. She has everything she needs. Hell, she might be the luckiest baby of all time. She has a full time mom and a full time dad and a full time grandma and aunts and uncles that adore he and a whole tribe of people loving her so much. She is safe. Held. Everything is ok. And yes, somewhere along the way I'm going to fuck up. And that's going to be ok, too.

I'm writing this sitting on the floor at the top of the staircase outside our bedroom, drinking a beer while listening to her fall asleep in her crib because our monitor is out of battery. All is well. This beer tastes so damn good. And right now, after writing this, I feel like a damn good mom.
Thank you, vulnerability. You save me every time


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