I wasn't prepared

I knew that as a mom I'd spend a lot of time making faces, talking babble, and crawling around on the floor.
What I didn't know was that my baby would actually walk on my face because it's the funniest thing to do.

I knew that as a mom I'd kiss owies, bandage scrapes, and dry tears.
What I didn't know was that nobody would fix my broken heart when these things happen.

I knew that as a mom I'd wash dirty faces, hands, and feet; do laundry; and gather chewed up food from places I never knew existed.
What I didn't know was that all faces, hands and feet, laundry, and eating areas would require soaking and sanitization 10 times an hour.

I knew that baby and I would have bath time daily (because I knew I'd love it).
What I didn't know was that I would be as wet as the bathee once he learned to splash.

I knew church would be a struggle.
What I didn't know was that I'd enjoy not paying attention so much.

I knew he'd cry, and I knew I'd cry.
What I didn't know was that every time we did I'd question my ability to be a mother. My ability to help him. My ability to provide what he needed. I didn't realize just how inadequate that sound would make me feel.

I knew I wasn't prepared, but there was no preparing me for just how little I knew.