grinding out the same tune

Things are getting to be a grind....go to work, come home, fly around the house like a crazy woman playing with and caring for M, doing housework and watching lameass TV after she goes to bed.....repeat.

I feel old. J-dog feels old. His dreads are actually sprouting some grey...and lord knows I've gotten my fair share too. The thing is: I knew it was going to be this way. I avoided motherhood like most people avoid the clap. I was on the pill when we conceived. I had a game plan but someone tweaked with the rules ahd propped open those egg tubes anyways. Don't get me wrong, I adore M more than I ever dreamed possible...but damn if this shit isn't hard on a woman. I still struggle to identify myself as mother. I still struggle with what my idea of mother is. But my biological interworkings make sure I am hypervigilant, giving, and aware. My child reads, eats healthy foods, and learns new things daily. She laughs harder than I've ever seen anyone else laugh. Ever. She is loved. We love her. I know she is thriving. But damn if this shit isn't hard.