I read several pregnancy books when I was expecting my first baby. But for the first two years of my motherhood, I didn’t read any parenting books. I was too busy feeding my baby and myself, cleaning up her toys, clothes and our house, struggling with naps and night sleeps, meeting up with other parents and their babies, checking about all the baby/toddler play spaces and taking her to try all kinds of baby/toddler classes near me. Sure I was exhausted, but I thought that was also full-filling, the way a mother was supposed to be or feel. I spent all my days and nights with her and I believed that I knew her inside out.
Until a couple of months ago when my baby turned two, I suddenly realized that I didn’t really know what was going on in her little head.
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