I love my daughter down to the core, but sometimes she can really drive me nuts.

“I’m crying just so I can see how my mommy will react!”

Now that she’s a year old, I’ve noticed that my sweet little baby has been replaced with a real human being, complete with the ability to push other people’s buttons.

Although she’s still sweet 99 percent of the time, the remainder is spent testing her limits — throwing things on the floor then staring at me to see my reaction, touching things I specifically told her not to, and doing backbends when she does not want to get picked up. Fun.

When she gets into one of those moods, I approach the situation as calmly as possible.

“I want to tear my hair out!”

Other times, I just do a serene face to help my little darling calm down.

“Grrr.”

I think it’s safe to say that after a whole year of being a mom, I’m an expert at handling a fussy baby.

“Let’s just wait for daddy to come home.”

On those days, one thought keeps me going: I’m not here. I look forward to when I can finally step away from taking care of the baby and catch a break.  Mothers, I am learning, need a breather from the emotional rollercoaster that comes with the territory of raising a person.

So, I take a break. Maybe I can even devote some time to blog. Frankly, these breaks don’t last very long. I come running back to my baby because even if she can drive me crazy, I’m just a mess without her.

 “Waaaah. I miss my baby.”

Sometimes motherhood feels like,

As I mentioned before, the only things I took care of before were a tomato plant and a dog. I have no idea what to expect when it comes to raising a human being and that uncertainty can be very stressful.

Other times, I swear motherhood is like,

A lot has been said about motherhood being a balancing act. You have to find time to take care of the baby, be a wife, run the household, maintain a career. Plus there are so many articles about how you can look good while doing all of these things.

All I can say is that there is no balance, especially during the first couple of weeks. I’ve learned from experience (I accepted a writing assignment that was due two days after I gave birth. Duh.) that if you try to have it all, you just end up doing a shoddy job at all of them.

Motherhood entails sacrifice. In my case, it means giving up work assignments and time alone. As far as looking good? Lies. I consider it a lucky day if I get to completely rinse the shampoo off my hair before having to run out of the bathroom.

Another lie? That parenting is a private affair.

Nobody told me that there’s parenting pressure. It’s like peer pressure, only 10 million times worse. Other people will inevitably have a say in how you are dealing with your kid. It can range from the subtle — “Oh, you just let your baby go through the hiccups. Some parents give their babies milk.” — to swatting your hand away as you’re cleaning up your child because they think you’re doing it wrong (yes, this has happened to me).

There’s also a self-imposed kind of pressure. I find myself eyeing other parents, gauging myself against them. I think, are they doing a better job? Since I didn’t get the fancy, Scandinavian designed strollers like they did, will my kid’s development be stunted?

I even spent a morning calculating the percentage of Facebook likes a picture of my child received to make sure that others get how pretty she is. In case you’re curious, based on the ratio of responses to number of Facebook friends, we’re at 13.8%. Not bad compared to the others who were at 10.4% and even 5%. Still there’s room for improvement so I’m thinking I should be more active in social networking sites.

You say neurotic? I say, try being a parent. There’s so much love in your heart for this little one that you just want to make sure, be absolutely sure, that you’re giving her the best because she deserves it.

Finally, nobody mentioned that no matter how stressful, frustrating, or exhausting it is, there’s is no feeling greater than seeing your baby’s big belly, changing her diaper, or smelling her tiny toes. Wait, other mothers have said that?

Well, it bears repeating.