Motherhood manuals

I was up at 2am with our youngest daughter and decided to scan the books on our bookshelves (I was bored and running out of non stimulative things to do to get her back to sleep). As my eyes were perusing the stacks of books, I laughed out loud when I found the handful of baby manuals. All mothers have at least one, gifted by a friend or family member, purchased during a pregnancy, or just passed down from someone. The holy grail of motherhood, the way to prepare you for the nine months of having a bun in the oven and for the twelve months that follow. I think that I eagerly devoured every page of every one of those books with my first child and I am pretty sure that they have not been opened much since.

For someone who is venturing into the unfamiliar, scary, but exciting first pregnancy, they do come in handy and often answer questions that you may be a little hesitant to ask your doctor. The books that discuss the first year of your little one's life are equally helpful, at least giving you a milestone reference to better prepare yourself for those first teeth, steps, etc. Then there is nothing......

When you buy a new product like a car or lawn mower, they come with an owner's manual that will supposedly cover the life of the product, a quick reference "how to" and "what if" book. If all else fails, there is a customer service number you can call to answer those questions or address issues that are not covered in the book. Apparently, children do not come with their own owner's manual and being that no two are alike, things can get pretty crazy. So, I safely navigated my way through the first years of my son and daughter's lives (referring when needed to the mommy books) and I thought that I was doing pretty darn good. Then my daughter became her own unique self.

My five year old is highly entertaining and I do find humor in her daily drama after I have counted to 10 (at least 100 times) and removed myself from the situation and shared her antics with others (hence my posts on Facebook). I have checked every inch of this child for a tag with the magic 800 number on it, I pulled every book I had to see if I could find any shred of help, but have failed miserably. I call my mother, seeking advice, and she just tells me that payback is a bitch.

So, this will be the beginning of my blogging about life with my daughter, Blair.