Messy Mom

Over the past few weeks and months, the evolution of my hair has dramatically changed. Gone are the days of using my wand and straightener, and gone are the days of a pretty fishtail braid on days I’m working. In their replacement is a messy, and I mean not the kinda cute messy that you see the girls in college wearing with their big sweaters, but the tangled, ratty, “is that old dried baby spit up?” in the middle of that messy bun hairstyle.

I’ll be honest with you, my messy bun bothers me some days. Maybe that makes me shallow, but hear me out. In 90% of pictures with Willa, my hair is in a messy bun. I look at myself in pictures with my face bare of makeup, wet messy bun, because my hair was immediately thrown up into a bun after a hurried shower, bags under my eyes, because God has blessed me with a 5 month old that STILL has no concept of sleeping more than 5 hours through the night consistently, dried milk stains, old spit up covering my clothes, and think to myself wow. Wow-she is struggling. Wow-she is adjusting to a whole new life. Wow-she is envious of those moms who get a full 8-12 hours of sleep at night. Oh how I could go on. 

So you see, my messy bun seems an outward portrayal of the battle I am fighting as a new mom. Y’all, I love my daughter. She is, and will forever be the greatest thing I have ever created, and I’ve never known a love so fierce and deep. But the days are hard, and the nights are harder. Breastfeeding is hard. Being a full-time employee, in a demanding physical environment with little to no time to pump, is hard. Going to work after 4-5 hours of sleep is hard. Accepting that your braids have been replaced for a messy bun is hard. Yet somehow through it all, it’s still worth it. I wouldn’t change it. Well not all of it, but if someone could convince Willa to sleep through the night, I wouldn’t be mad about it.

My messy bun reflects a lot about the changes in my life, but it’s also on some days a reminder of growth. Life changes, and I’m forced to adapt, to either grow and go with it or sit down and quit.

My hair is thrown up in a bun, because I am up/down/turning around/jumping/clapping/running that baby in my jogging stroller/swinging/scream singing baby shark/force feeding green beans/reading every book in the nursery/chalking the sidewalk/changing diaper after diaper/swimming in a kiddie pool/running errands with my 5 month old. My shirts have milk stains and my pants almost always have some form of baby food or spit up. My Madewell purse has been replaced with a diaper bag just as full and messy as my hair. But y’all, my baby is growing. She is healthy. She is learning to do everything but sleep. She is saying mama when she’s scared, tired, or upset. She’s giggling when I scream sing baby shark. She is playing with her puppies. She’s loving reading time. Everything is going in her mouth as she explores the world around her. She LOVES people. 

A few years ago whenever I moved into our rent house, we had a large beautiful tree in the front yard. To make a long story short, the city cut down our tree. Ryan and I, well mainly Ryan, planted a red maple tree in the front yard. It was tiny, and still is. But we have come to love this tiny, but mighty tree. Last week whenever I was on my way home from a run, Ryan met me in the front yard. He wanted to capture a picture of Willa by the tree in front of the house that we bought from our landlord earlier this year. He wanted to keep the picture to watch her grow and see how the tree grew too. He inadvertently caught me in the picture too. At first I hated it. My messy bun just stood out to me. I said to him how I hate that my bun just feels like an outward portrayal of the chaotic life I’m living these days. As he always, so kindly says, he reminded me to be gentle with myself. That I am a new(ish) mother. That I’m placing my baby’s needs above that of my hair, makeup, sleep, or sanity. That being a mom is a beautiful, yes messy, but beautiful thing. 

This picture to me, will be one I hold onto forever. I will look back on it and see how our baby and tree grow. But more importantly, I will look on it and see how God has grown me too. All through a messy bun.