I’m not really having an identity crisis. Kind of the opposite. It’s like I’m finally figuring out who I am. And I’m a mom! But boy, has it been a change.

People keep asking me how I like it. They often seem a little worried to hear my answer. And I can’t blame them. For a long time I was really concerned about what Future-Mom-Danica’s answer to that question would be.

You know all those girls you knew growing up who were like KILLER babysitters and like really good with kids and always wanted to hold everyone’s babies? The girls who would say without shame or embarrassment that they just wanted to be a mom when they grew up? Those girls always confused and frightened me.

First of all, there are SO MANY cool degrees and jobs and careers out there, and you don’t want to pursue any of them? I loved being a teacher. I want to be a writer. I really want to go to makeup artistry school at some point. Wouldn’t it be cool to be a yoga or zumba instructor?? I sometimes try to apprentice for my cake baking wizard mother-in-law. I want to take every class! There’s so much out there I’d love to do!!!!!! People to meet, places to go, things to learn. And you just want to stay at home and get covered in peanut butter and wipe bums all day? What is wrong with you?

Secondly, is there something wrong with me? I don’t even want to LOOK at a fragile lil baby – I might hurt it. You couldn’t pay me enough to babysit a 3 year old. Can this baby talk yet? No? Well why not? Oh, they can’t talk at 3 months old? Oh. Ok. Honestly, is there something wrong with me? Am I going to be a terrible mother? Why am I the only girl not contaminated with this baby hunger virus? I was so worried. It was this dark monster called Selfish that would creep up and whisper in my ear “You don’t have what it takes. You’ll have babies out of obligation to your culture and do a terrible job because you’re too selfish to be a REAL mom.”

I felt changes in myself over those 9 months of pregnancy. I just KNEW I needed to quit and not finish the school year. I KNEW I might one day go back, but the right thing was to just be a mom for a while. And that scared me, too. I felt myself becoming a little more loving, understanding, compassionate. But still. I was scared of babies and kids. I was worried I’d miss my job and my kids so much. What if they show me that slimly lil newborn and I feel NOTHING? What if I hate being a mom?

Even in the hospital that black monster, Selfish, whispered to me “You’ve made a huge mistake. There’s a reason you don’t even know what to name her. There’s a reason you don’t have a picture of her in your head. You just don’t get it and you never will.” At some point the whispering stopped. I’m not sure when. But I do know the exact moment that Selfish was crushed into a million pieces, blasted to smithereens.

Because the moment I saw her I became something else entirely. A mom. And Selfish hasn’t made a peep since.  I have loved every single second since. I have smiled every single minute since. I have laughed at least once every hour since at the fear and concern I felt before I met her.

So I hope no one thinks I’m lying when they ask me, thinking I’m just saving face or trying to stay positive.

How do I like being a mom?

I freaking love it. It’s the greatest thing I’ve ever done, been or experienced. I would never go back to the time before this nugget. 

I get to see these smiles

I get to be part of these cuddles

I always have a lil sidekick to take shopping and to take selfies with

So here I am on the other side tellin you. It’s everything they said it was. And it’s even better.