feeling like one hot mess

Motherhood.  I feel like someone needs to tell you that you will continually feel like you're going crazy once you enter motherhood.  Now that I've been in this stage for almost a year (?!?!?!?!?!?!?! I'm already crying) I feel like I should have my act together, be able to show up to places on time, know why my baby is crying, and feel altogether synced.  Well, lately I've just been feeling like one hot mess. 

Currently I'm pumping while scouring the cabinets for fenugreek and slathering on fennel essential oil like it's nobody's business because I'm not producing much milk these days.  I panic and struggle between blaming the fact that Nathan's been fussier or waking up more on the fact that he's probably not getting enough to eat and accepting the fact that it just may be time to wean.  I'm also currently googling a typical feeding schedule for 11 month olds because I'm worried he's not getting enough milk on top of his solids, hoping that this will make him sleep through the night.  I definitely remember doing all of these things, googling when I didn't know what was going on, and then coming to terms with the fact that this will always be "new" and I'll continue to learn the ropes as we go.  

And then there was yesterday....Nathan wasn't feeling well, I wasn't feeling well, and we ended up being one hot mess.  We had our annual Christmas concert.  I long for this day all year.  The concert started at 4 but I had to be there at 2:30 to help with kids' check-in.  At the last minute I realize that Nathan has no clean pants so I throw a load into the wash thinking surely there will be enough time to dry them.  Oh, and the Mr. works on Sundays so it was a solo-mama day.  I try to make myself presentable (why didn't I do that earlier?!?!) and let Nathan play in our room/bathroom.  Noticing he's been quiet for some time, I look over only to find his hand in. the. toilet.  Yes.  I freaked out, immediately washed his hands, and we continued on with our hot mess of a day. 

His clothes didn't have enough time to dry, so I pull out the closest pair of pants and decide not to put them on him so they can continue to dry in the car.  We get downtown and successfully park, I put Nathan in the Ergo only to noticed that both eyes are all goopy and gross.  Deciding that he should be fine, I put him in the nursery while I serve and check in kids.  And then it happened.  Right when I thought "we've got this" and was about to enjoy the concert, I was informed Nathan couldn't stay in the nursery because his eyes weren't clearing up and I immediately felt all the shame.  I was "that mom" with "that baby" with "those eyes".  Why did I even put him there in the first place?!?!  Mind you, these aren't truths one bit, but it is exactly where my mind went.  

So I picked him up, strapped him on, oh...and still pantless because they were still damp, and proceeded to the concert.  Well, wearing a 24+ pounder along with a diaper bag and purse definitely starts to take a toll on the body.  Standing in the back of the auditorium I felt like all was lost.  This would have been so much easier if I wasn't by myself doing it alone.  But then I remember that there will always be these challenges with or without the Mr. by my side.  I walked to the car with a dead phone, a sick baby, and aching shoulders and back wishing it had all gone so differently.  And then we got home, Nathan went to bed beautifully, and this morning it all just makes me chuckle.  Of course this will happen again.  He will be sick, I will forget to wash his clothes, he'll have a blowout.  But I really need to remember not to let my mind get sucked into the "shame game" telling myself that I'm a hot mess.