A Case of the Maybes

Motherhood is filled with a million maybes.

It dawned on me last night circa 11:54 while I was rocking with Reese.  She woke up screaming, which is not the norm, so I rocked her until she was calm.  While we were cuddling several thoughts passed through my mind to try to figure out what was wrong: Maybe she's hungry.  Maybe she's teething.  Maybe she pooped and I can't smell it. Maybe she's allergic to the plums I made her for dinner. 

And then I realized...motherhood is full of maybes.  I am constantly asking questions.  Constantly wondering if what I think I know I actually don't know at all.

I question the baby: Maybe she's going through a growth spurt.  Maybe she is too full.  Maybe she's gassy.  Maybe I fed her yogurt too soon.  Maybe she doesn't like my perfume.  Maybe she didn't sleep long enough.  Maybe she's coming down with a cold.  Maybe she's ready to go to 2 naps.  Maybe it's the full moon.

I question my toddler: Maybe she is going through a growth spurt (when in doubt, blame it on a growth spurt).  Maybe she doesn't need a nap anymore.  Maybe she needs to poop.  Maybe she needs to be able to count to 100 instead of just 20.  Maybe she won't like preschool...maybe I won't like preschool.  Maybe I should keep her at her babysitters.  Maybe she's coming down with a cold.  Maybe she needs to play outside more.  Maybe she should be riding a bike by now.  Maybe she's a genius (of course she is, duh).

I question myself:  Maybe I shouldn't have that 5th cookie. Maybe I should go to bed earlier.  Maybe I should stay up later and hang out with Matt.  Maybe I should eat better.  Maybe I should drink more milk.  Maybe I should paint those cabinets.  Maybe I should take my vitamins every day.  Maybe we should redo the bathrooms.  Maybe I should get outside and go for a run more often.  Maybe I should not worry so much.

Questioning your own self is exhausting enough...it's almost incomprehensible how you can be responsible for everyone else's questions, too.  How am I supposed to be an expert on an 8 month old, a 3 1/2 year old AND a 33 year old all at the same time?!
Sometimes, like last night, I have to remind myself of a piece of advice that I gave a new mother recently.  I told her to trust her instincts.  I told her that mothers' instincts are strong and to listen to them.  If you felt the calling of motherhood, you no doubt have these instincts.  The instinct to wake in a panic at the slightest noise.  The instinct of not needing a thermometer to know if your child has a fever.  The instinct of protecting your child against all odds. 
I have to remember to trust my instincts.  I alone (well besides Matt) am the expert on my family.  I know what's best.  I know what they need. 
I am the Mommy, squasher of the maybes.