Mom for A Day: What First-Time Parenting a Toddler is Like
I am the firstborn daughter and the eldest of six children. With over a 15-year age gap between my youngest sibling, I believed I had rightfully earned my Ph.D. in childcare. I’ve survived everything from diapers to full-scale tantrums. I assumed motherhood was a skill I had already mastered, after gaining decades worth of experience in the area, but as I have entered my mid-20s and my social media feed has started to shift from graduation commencement photos to ultrasound images, I decided it was time to put my “sister skills” to the test. I volunteered to care for 14-month-old Aleiya, my goddaughter, for 12 hours straight. All by myself.
While I have babysat many times in the past, this experience was a rude awakening into my future with motherhood. By noon, I realized that babysitting is a battle, but being a mother is a war.
At 10 a.m., I picked Aleiya up from her mom and brought her to my house, full diaper bag in tow. Our first obstacle to overcome was breakfast. I turned on Ms. Rachel to keep her distracted while I prepared her plate: brown sugar oatmeal and diced mangos. Just as I finished up her plate, I heard Aleiya’s small, inquisitive voice from beside me.
“Nana? Nana?” She chirped, pointing up at the bowl of bananas on the counter.
I was happy to obey her command, and I grabbed one (probably slightly over-ripe) banana. I peeled it, cut it in half and added it to her plate. After 20 minutes of dodging tiny flying hands covered in mashed bananas and sticky mango syrup, breakfast was a success. My kitchen table was covered in mounds of cold oatmeal, but Aleiya was fed and satisfied. I peeled her off the plastic Bumbo seat and stripped off her soiled pajamas.
A full diaper was waiting for me in her baby blue Stitch pajamas, and it was then that I realized I made my first mom mistake. I swore at myself for not realizing sooner that she was still wearing the diaper she had gone to sleep in. Changing her should have been the first thing I did. Wanting to relieve her of her discomfort, I quickly initiated diaper change mode.
This I was well prepared for. Having five siblings will teach you that before you ever lay a child down, make sure you have the diaper, wipes, diaper cream and entertainment at the ready. Being a big sister will also teach you to always expect some resistance, especially with mobile little ones, and boy, did Aleiya put up a fight. She twisted on the ground like an alligator in a death roll until I found her bouncing ball toy that made the most aggravating sound as it skipped across the hardwood floor.
At noon, my anxiety peaked as I was reminded of my college student obligations. I was determined to still attend my virtual class, Aleiya along for the ride. Conveniently, this was also about the time that Aleiya started to miss her mom.
Aleiya stood at the top of my stairs, looking down at the front door and crying out, “Mama...Mama,” while I sat crisscrossed, applesauce on the floor, desperately trying to comfort her and participate in class.
Thankfully, my classmates laughed at the situation along with me. I felt at ease when my classmate Sara remarked that she was also well-versed in children’s erratic behavior.
Aleiya grew only crankier after class, and her current temperament meant that I couldn’t take her to the library as I had originally planned. Instead, I spent the afternoon offering her a plethora of snack and entertainment options to keep her content.
Then, she signaled the most official and glorious symbol of surrender: the eye rub. It was now 1:30 p.m., and I was confident that naptime was soon approaching (though her mom said her typical naptime wasn’t for another hour). I cuddled her up in her white blanket and laid with her until the sounds of “Dora the Explorer” lulled her to sleep.
When I was sure she was asleep, I crept away and back into the kitchen. Three thoughts hit me at once: I had a pounding headache, the kitchen was a mess, and I was starving. I cleaned the kitchen and living room first before I rewarded myself with a turkey sandwich and a good drink of water. I couldn’t believe that it was only 2:30 p.m.
Aleiya ended up napping until 4:30 p.m., which felt like a miracle straight from the heavens. During her nap, a second miracle was gifted to me. The true expert on raising children was home from work, my mother.
My mother kept Aleiya entertained while I sat beside them and started debriefing about our day together so far.
“Are you having fun with your godmom?” she cooed, Aleiya giggling in response. Seeing a smile on her face reassured me that I was doing a fine job.
6 p.m. was dinner time: roast beef, steamed carrots, mashed potatoes and halved grapes. I had learned my lesson from breakfast and put Aleiya’s seat on the floor so I could easily sweep up her inevitable mess. By this point, I was sick of watching baby shows and was really missing my routine of eating dinner by myself and watching “Sex and the City.”
Bathtime was my hardest battle yet. With it being the first time I had bathed a baby, I wasn’t completely prepared. I learned the true skill of motherly multitasking as I had one hand braced against Aleiya’s slippery body, the other juggling a plastic cup, all while trying to keep her entertained and not succumb to the deep sleep spell her lavender-scented soap was drawing me into. She looked so pitiful gripping the side of the tub like a nervous puppy.
“How am I supposed to rinse the shampoo out of her hair and not drown her?” I cried out to my mom.
She hurried into the bathroom and took my place in front of Aleiya, “You just have to just force her head back a little bit,” she said as she modeled her words.
I watched in awe how easily she made it all look. She handed the cup back to me to let me try. My initial awe turned into envy when I couldn’t perfectly execute her instructions. She kept Aleiya entertained as I finished washing her off and getting her ready for pajamas.
Aleiya was teaching me to never underestimate how much children can eat. You wouldn’t have known that Aleiya had a full dinner because after her bath, she was back to snacking.
This time, she was eating out of my and my mother’s dinner plates. She pressed the tips of her fingers together to signal that she wanted more.
“Please!” She demanded, rubbing her tiny hand over her chest.
When I heard Aleiya’s mom ring the doorbell, I felt sad to give her back. We had spent our last few minutes together cuddling and singing nursery rhymes on the couch. While my day as a mom was exhausting, I felt extremely accomplished and proud. Though she challenged me in many ways, my time with her reminded me how honored I am to be a part of her life. I typically spend my weekdays alone, and I enjoyed her company.
Once Aleiya was happily back with her mom, and I was back to my regular life, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I ended up scrolling through social media on my phone, happy to finally hear normal adult voices, until the exhaustion washed over me again. That night, I slept like a baby.