Pre-Order So God Made a Mother
I was talking with a friend recently. One who is a great mama. Her babies are healthy and clothed and fed and loved. And lovely. She is married and totally in love. And this mama was talking about staying home. About how she doesn’t love it. Not at all. About how she never has. It’s been a constant struggle. But how she feels like she’s sort of stuck in it.
And I remembered. I remembered feeling that after number one. And then, after number two. And then again, after number three.
I remember that I always questioned if I was supposed to feel so conflicted if indeed, I was making the right choice. I wondered if I was doing my babes a disservice by being home with them if I wasn’t absolutely truly, madly, deeply in love with the situation.
But everyone told me I was supposed to love it. Everyone would say, you’re so lucky or it’s such a luxury. And deep down, I would resent those statements. I know that doesn’t make sense. And some moms will think, “ummmm really?” But it didn’t feel that way to me when I was missing making an income, being social and “using my brain” at work {and yes, I know very much that SAHMs use their brains}. It didn’t feel that way when I was exhausted at the end of every day. It didn’t feel that way when every moment, I held in anxiety that I wasn’t the very type of mother they needed me to be.
And then, cancer happened in my life. And now, after cancer, I find myself pretty content with staying home. Maybe it’s because of a perspective shift. Or maybe it’s because I believe that the right very flexible arrangement will come my way when it’s time. Maybe because I realized through treatment that I have no desire to spend even 25 hrs a week in an office at this stage. At their stages. And yes, I realize, what a “luxury” it is to have that option.
Also, after having a life changing diagnosis… A period of time with my life, flashing before my eyes… I determined that the times I’ve felt happiest as a mom — where I’ve felt the most secure with myself — is decisions made have been for me, for my kids, for our family. Not because it was the popular thing. Or the easiest thing. Or because of someone else’s opinion. I was being the mom I wanted to be. The mom that I believed my kids needed me to be. The mom that I needed me to be.
Let me assure you of one thing that I know for certain: life is too damn short, mama. It’s too short to mom someone else’s way. To make everyone else miserable while making your existence completely invisible. To take your feelings out of the equation. Just because you think it’s what sounds best for your kids.
It is hard. Motherhood is. If you dispute that, 100%, well, then we will just have to agree to disagree. Because I believe it is hard. But motherhood is also beautiful. Messy. Full of joy. Hilarious. Comforting. Challenging. Life-affirming. Spiritual. Loud. Monotonous. Infuriating. Freaking incredible. And a lifestyle and humanstyle I am so amazed I get to live.
But it’s full of choices. Choices on birthing. Feeding. Diapering. Sleeping. Pacifying. Swaddling. Circumcisions. And that is just in the first week of the parenting gig. Then you have discipline. Screen time. Chores. Responsibility. Religion. Sex discussions. Sports. Activities. Driving. Drinking. School or no school. Organic or conventional. Staying home or not. One kid or five.
Sheesh. Just thinking about it all makes my head spin.
And then, thinking of what everyone else thinks about it all. Jeeeeeezaloo. That’s. Exhausting.
So let’s try to not. Let’s try to not hafta consider what everyone else thinks of what they think our parenting choices look like from a distance. Let’s try to start. To start being the moms we want to be for our own family. Making the decisions that we make with our spouses because of our vision for our life together. The decisions we make based on the personalities and strengths of each child we have. And recognizing that the things, sometimes, that make mama or daddy happy or content, are what make our children great. And make them “our people.” Little extensions of us. Children, I believe, are sent to us to make our lives better… more spontaneous… more whimsical… more fragile. Not broken… or scary… or like watching the sand slip through an hourglass… hopeful for the next day and then the next but never feeling unstuck.
So hear this, mama who feels like she’s stuck at home. Mama who feels like she’s getting pressure to wean her two year old. Mama who feels like the co-sleeping she loves so much has to be a secret. Mama who feels like the Hostess Powdered donuts she gives her two-year-old every morning must never be seen. Mama who wants her kid to have screen time every day so she has sanity. Mama who wants to pop a beer every day at her desk before she goes home to her kiddos. Mama who wants her twelve-year-old to mow the lawn and clean the house. Mama who wants to give her daughter a talk about abstinence or the pill. Mama who feels like there’s pressure for your child to look a certain way. Mama who wants to teach your kiddo about Jesus. Mama who wants to talk to your kids about Love being Love. Mama who feels like she can’t wait for high school to end. Mama who feels like she will crumble when it does. Mama who feels like she is alone. Mama who has become a grandma. And is trying to navigate motherhood, in a whole new way.
To all the mamas… Any and all of you questioning yourselves as mothers because you are playing the game of comparing your ways to others’… To my dear, sweet mama friend who is feeling stuck. And unhappy. You can mom your own way. Got it? You can mom your way. You can. And slowly, once you get the hang of it, you will start to feel free. Content. And proud of the mother you are. Because you will stop judging yourself by the mother you aren’t. You will start loving mothering. You will find the joy. And you will stop feeling stuck.
You can mom your own way. And maybe, you ought to start, today.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sd2TnFj66qo
During my early years of having children, I can recall feeling like I needed more help with juggling—taking care of my little ones and our home. Although my mother-in-law was only a 10-minute drive away, she was preoccupied looking after my nephew and nieces. Awkwardly, I would only ask if it was really necessary—like a doctor’s appointment or the dentist. Even at church, it was difficult to ask for help—either we didn’t know certain members well enough to entrust our kids to their care or they were friends with children too and that hardly seemed fair to burden them. The...
Every morning my daughter and I go outside for some fresh air. She feeds her chickens and plays and explores and walks around with her dog while I follow her around and have a cup of coffee. This morning, my girl grabbed one of her coffee cups from her toy kitchen and brought it outside with her while she walked with her dog and pretended to take sips out of it. Guys. I stood there watching her with her toy coffee cup, walking around with her animals, and I cried giant baby tears. RELATED: I Wasn’t Counting On You Growing...
A friend came up to me the other day after church and commented, “I’ve never seen you alone. I had to make sure you were okay.” It’s true. I’m never alone. I usually have one or two children hanging onto me and three more milling about with my husband close. But at that moment, my husband had stepped away to collect the younger ones from the children’s service, and my older two had run off with their friends. I was standing alone. And as I stood there, one thought crossed my mind, “This is what it will be like when...
We’ve all been asked it. Maybe once, maybe more times than we can count. Maybe we’ve even asked it ourselves, “When are you trying for baby #2?” It seems harmless, and most of the time it probably is. Pre-baby me never even stopped to consider that it was anything other than a curious, sometimes nosey, question to ask. The mom version of me today feels a completely different way. It’s now deeper and more complicated than it seemed in the past. The mom in me struggles every single time I’m asked this. Struggles to come up with an answer. Struggles...
Hello again, Midnight. I wish I could say I was happy to see you. My, what a journey we have had together over the years. I must admit I thought we started out as friends, but as we meet these days, I sense an unkindness about you. Our journey began when I was somewhere around 12. Sure, I had met you in passing on occasion in years prior, but it wasn’t until now that I sought out your companionship. Some middle school girlfriends and I stayed up late, feeling rebellious against bedtime. We were fascinated by the way the world...
My oldest son turned four right after his first brother was born. Four years of alone time with his parents. Four years of extra mommy time during the week. Four years of having toys to himself, extra attention from family members, and more. I didn’t plan a four-year age gap; it took our family a lot longer and a lot more help than we expected to have our second son, but age gaps aren’t everything. When my second son was finally on the way, I heard a lot of opinions about how our oldest son would feel once he finally...
As the sun is rising on a frigid winter morning, a brave and determined group of athletes are weighing in at a high school gym. They are physically and mentally preparing for a long day spent at a tournament where they will spend only minutes wrestling, despite the hours they sit and wait all day. Their sport uses offense, defense, and mental strength unlike any other sport. My sons and nephew are wrestlers. They are part of a special team of athletes who work together but compete as individuals. Their youth team is run by all volunteer coaches with...
My daughter stands on the front porch every morning and waves goodbye to me as I pull out of the driveway to go to work. She is 11, and recently eye-rolling, long sighs, and tears have become more commonplace in our daily interactions. But, there is also this: “Bye! Have a good day!” she calls to me in the quiet of early morning, neighbors not yet awake in their still dark houses. “You are AMAZING! You got this!” she continues in her little adult voice, sounding more like a soccer mom than a fifth grader. Her hair is still a...
To the mom going through a divorce: you can do this. I’ve been where you are, staring at a mountain of changes and challenges that felt insurmountable. The crushing ache of divorce, of family disruption, of building a new life, and helping my son through it all seemed endless and impossible. But eventually, I made it through to the other side, and I want you to know: the pain won’t last forever. The first year following a divorce is an overwhelming puzzle of putting your life back together. And when there are kids involved, there is so much more to...
My son, you are 12 years old. You are a young boy in the last days before you become a young man. You are a boy fully realized, having reached the summit of childhood. You can read fat books, catch fly balls, and ride your bike to your friends’ houses. You still get excited about Pokémon cards and Nintendo games. You still want LEGO sets for your birthday and Christmas even though you enjoy them more for the building and delight of owning them than for the playing. You still wrestle and sword fight with your little brother. RELATED: My...