Today I googled “how to be more patient”. Literally. I always knew I was somewhat impatient. I take after my father and it’s my way or no way but it wasn’t until my little boy Asher came along that I truly realized that I have ZERO patience. I mean none.

Asher is going on eight months in just a few short days and he is really starting to discover the world around him. He loves nothing better than his little walker where he gets the opportunity to run around the house getting into everything he possibly can. Surprisingly, this doesn’t bother me (yet I’m sure). I love the sound of his little feet sprinting across the floor and when he gets quiet I will sneak up behind him and smile as I see him stretching and grunting to try and reach that book off of my end table. These new moments are cute and exciting as the ever anticipated baby on the move phase gets closer.

What gets me in literally zero to a hundred is when it’s time to eat. We are still nursing through the night and I have accepted that this will probably go on until he’s eighteen because the kid just won’t sleep and I’m okay with that (to a certain extent). These night feedings are quick, to the point, and efficient. Once he’s done eating his little eyes immediately close and he’s back to sleep. No, these feedings don’t bother me. They are a sweet reminder of how much my baby still needs me and it gives me the opportunity to relish in the beauty of motherhood.

It’s all of the other feedings.

Asher wakes up at six am sharp. No matter what. You’d think after a long night of zero sleep he’d want to relax and nurse just as calmly and quietly as he does at night. Wrong. I feel as if I’m wrangling a little monkey. I know it’s coming. It’s not a new thing and yet as soon as he pops off after only a minute of eating I can feel my face getting hot and my teeth begin to clench down. I remind myself that I need to be patient and go on with my day.

Breakfast rolls around and we have no problem with his morning oatmeal. Just like mama, it’s his favorite and he scarfs it down in minutes probably because he’s starving from not eating earlier. We attempt to nurse a few times in there but it’s hit or miss on the day.

Then it’s lunchtime.

Now my baby used to be obsessed with his solid food. I could feed him anything and it was gone in seconds so when one day he just started refusing it I was blown away. I make my own baby food so it may be cheaper but it’s definitely not a quick task to get more. I prepared his meal and was so happy when he opened wide and took a spoonful and then another and then- his lips puckered tight. Nothing was getting past them. Once again I started to get hot and I could feel my blood boiling.

This time I yelled. Not at him, not at anything particularly. I just yelled.

Then I started to cry.

I was upset because I got upset.

I was upset that it takes something so small to get me worked up.

I was upset that I wanted to scream. Why do I get worked up so quickly?

I gave my baby some toys and I walked away. I needed to breathe and reevaluate. I felt like I was failing. These little moments are NOTHING in motherhood. I know there is so much worse to come and yet I can’t even handle something so simple. Is patience a learned trait or just something you have or don’t have?

I’ve been a mother for a mere eight months. Not only am I learning how to make it day to day but my baby is learning this big scary world. Every day isn’t perfect but its a learning process. When I feel myself getting worked up and ready to explode, I do three simple tasks:

I sit back

I take a deep breath

and I tell myself that I am doing my best.

That’s it and that’s all I can do. I’ve come to realize that my impatience will probably never go away but that I can learn to manage it. These small, silly things that send me over the edge are a result of exhaustion, stress, and frustration and not so much my mothering ability.

As always, you mama are not alone and you are doing your best.

And that is the best reminder <3

Who could deny this face anyway!<3