Categories
Kids/Parenting Fulfillment

Things you get used to as a mom

When I first became a mom, the adjustment was hard. Looking back now (five short/long years later), I realize so many of the things I thought I’d never get used to are just part of my routine now—and that’s not a bad thing!

1. Taking three times as long as it should to do just about everything.
Especially, but not limited to, taking a walk, shopping, using the stairs, outings, reading, crafts . . .

2. Running on empty, like all the time.
This doesn’t mean that you won’t throw the occasional grown-up-tantrum when the baby wakes up for the day at 5:30 after a child had you out of bed every hour since you dared to go to bed at midnight. But you’ll make it. Not fun, but physically possible.

3. The cuteness of childhood, adorable as it is.
You take for granted that they’ll be that way forever. Just this week, Rebecca started saying “p’ee-p’ease” instead of “mee-mease.”

4. The present.
It’s almost as if they’ve always been this size/capable/annoying/wonderful.

5. Being needed, like all the time.
And if for some reason your kids don’t need you, somehow we find other ways to make ourselves useful. Or other people or things who need us.

6. Being dirty.
It sounds gross, but seriously, from the stages of nursing to the diapers to the mud-pie stage, you realize that a little dirt isn’t the end of the world. (And if it’s not you physically, it’s probably the kids or the house. Or all three.) Just makes you appreciate the clean even more!

7. Having these sweet strangers around.
It seems like the older they get, the more they become their own people. It’s almost as if we can’t really know them the way we did when they were our babies. But we love them and love to get to know them a little better every day.

What have you gotten used to as a mother?

Categories
Kids/Parenting Fulfillment

Motherhood: opportunities to love

One of my dear friends enjoyed a transcendent-ordinary moment of motherhood the other day. It was an average day, but when her daughter found a new game, she took that opportunity to enjoy her daughter instead of focusing on what she needed to get done right! that! minute! (Ten guesses what I tend to do!)

You can read all about the completely adorable game her daughter invented, and how my friend embraced it. Elisa concludes:

It struck me that this sort of thing is exactly what makes motherhood worthwhile in the day to day ordinariness of routine: taking those fleeting opportunities to love.

And I couldn’t say it better.

How can you celebrate the ordinary by taking the opportunity to love today?

Photo by Tiffanie

Categories
Kids/Parenting Fulfillment

The Meaning of Motherhood

For some—motherhood means raising your children and being the best you can be so that you know your child will grow up to make you proud. That is what society has pumped into the meaning of motherhood. And yes, that’s exactly what us moms want, but there are other things too . . .

What Do We Really Want as Moms?

Several things—to begin with, wonderful children that help bring meaning to our lives. Secondly, recognition for being able to tackle the impossible—being a mom isn’t easy but it certainly is rewarding. Thirdly, we want the occasional break, the chance to get away and be us again—that person we once knew minus the baby spit, uncombed hair, frazzled features and non-maimed outfit. Fourthly, we want to know our children were raised right, fed right, loved right, taught right and above all—grew up right—to be wonderful people, citizens, moms & dads, and husbands & wives. Right?

Children Bring Meaning to our Lives.

There is always a time where we get frustrated and maybe resent being a mom. And then, there are those times when something fantastic happens and we wouldn’t imagine being anything other than a mom. The latter scenario happens more often than the first because being a mom is fun and rewarding and without having little Jimmy throw Cheerios in your hair, what is life about? My uncle used to always tell me, “Grow up, get an education, find a wonderful man and have children because without children, there is no meaning to life.” I don’t necessarily thing the last part of his lecture is true; many people find meaning in life without children but those of us who have them know . . . there’s no going back and that’s they way we want it.

Let us be Recognized!

After carrying them for nine months in our womb, breast feeding, nursing, consistent coddling, diaper changes and every other task that doesn’t necessarily stop when they turn 18, we’d like some recognition. And if they’re not old enough to drive, bike or shop—then we’d like something handmade and crafty or even just a hug to make our day. We’d like our childless friends to know how much we sacrifice and we’d especially like our children’s fathers to know and say thanks with some occasional flowers, a night off or even a night out (with a spit-free outfit).

Let us be Free!

Yes, that occasional night out (spit-free outfit included) is exactly what we need, especially when our children are always in. There was a time, and it is a distant, distant memory, when we didn’t have deadlines, PTA meetings, exams, appointments, cleanings, doctor visits, swimming lessons, baseball practice, piano lessons, birthday parties and it never stops . . . anyways, before all of this we had us, just that one person we had to worry about. We wouldn’t change it—we love being moms—but sometimes having a night out to relax and maybe briefly forget about everything, is always rejuvenating and much deserving. Of course, if you’re anything like me—three seconds out of the house and I’m attached to my phone in case the babysitter calls and Jimmy fell down or isn’t able to sleep. Sometimes it seems more like a punishment to make yourself leave and be a person again and not just a mommy; that punishment is always so rewarding when you come home.

Then there is always the “old friends” who decided not to procreate and always have free time to hang out and party—why do they always wonder why you don’t? Because you have a life, you say to yourself and then quickly realize they do too; they just decided to live a different one from yours. And just when you’re ready to envy them and beg for freedom, you realize that kind of life isn’t what you want . . . or maybe it is . . . one night a month.

The Moment of Truth.

There it is . . . all out on the table. You’ve done the raising, the disciplining, the crying, the laughing, the cooking, the teaching, the cleaning, the pep talk, the inspiring and the raising . . . and now, it’s time to see how they turn out. Oh boy! This is always the tough one. Has your skills as a mother been enough and what happens if Jimmy doesn’t go to college, then med school, then maybe Harvard just for fun, get married and have children? Does that mean you fail? What if Jimmy goes off, explores the world, finds inspiration in drawing and opens an art studio in New York (maybe Newark)? Did you do your job as a parent? This is the scariest question for me. Have I done enough to be a good parent? And what does Jimmy have to do in life for me to know I’ve succeeded as a good mom?

The Answer?

Nothing. Jimmy doesn’t have to do anything for me to know I’ve succeeded. His success is now up to him and defined by himself. If he wants to be a musician, then he’s a success because that is what he wants to do. A doctor—even better—as long as he wants to do it. I firmly believe that the lessons and skills we pass on to our children will mold them for the rest of their lives but we ourselves, will never be able to mold them into their lives.

About the author
Maria Rainier is a freelance writer and blog junkie. She is currently a resident blogger at First in Education where she’s been researching both the highest paying jobs and the lowest paying jobs on the market. In her spare time, she enjoys square-foot gardening, swimming, and avoiding her laptop.

Categories
Fulfillment

A mother’s love.

It’s been just over five years since I became a mother. And I discovered that being a mom was hard.

I knew, intellectually, that being a mother was a lot of work. But I had no idea how emotionally difficult a newborn could be. I felt like I had to have every priority and desire wrested and wrenched from me. (And, frankly, sometimes it does still feel that way.)

I was understimulated and overwhelmed, always tired, and never able to get the real rest that I needed.

And now? I have two other kids in addition to my baby. I almost feel as though I’ve been through the wringer and come out the other side—because, I finally realize, I do enjoy being a mother.

For the last five years, whenever a mother concludes the usual list of complaints with “but it’s worth it,” I mentally raised an eyebrow. And yeah, I still do that most of the time. There are still times—lots of them—where I am completely fed up and ready to quit. But slowly I’m finding myself remembering more of those moments where I do feel it’s worth it.

When Hayden was born, just being a mother was so hard for me, I wasn’t sure I could have another (and the epidural complications didn’t help). After Rebecca’s birth, I thought I could have another in due time. But before that “due time” was up, I had Rachel—and with her, every little moment I think, This can’t be the last time I have a baby to snuggle or see these milestones or love a child of my own.”

A lot of the bitterness of the experience of becoming a mother has faded, and looking back, I know how easy I had it. I realized at the time that Hayden wasn’t a very difficult baby, and my struggles were mostly my own, and of course, I did love him very much. On the other hand, Rachel was my most difficult baby early on (she’s a perfectly happy child now)—and maybe that’s why I appreciate this phase more now.

Maybe it’s just that the older your kids get, the more you appreciate the little moments—and the moments they’re little. Almost every day, one of the kids does something remarkable, adorable, amazing, intelligent and/or kind. The milestones come faster and faster—and then I carry Rachel to her room for a nap, and I’m alternately amazed at how huge she’s getting and how tiny she still is.

I don’t know if I’ve done the feeling justice, but I feel like I appreciate and enjoy being a mother more now than I ever have. So this Valentine’s Day, I’m celebrating a mother’s love by loving motherhood.

How would you write a tribute to mother’s love for Valentine’s Day?

Categories
Kids/Parenting

This week’s (ish) milestones

I think I forgot to mention this here since I already told my sisters and parents, but Rachel got her first tooth last week! #2 is ready to make an appearance any time. (And then maybe she’ll sleep past 6:30AM??)

Also this week, Rebecca got her first haircut. When Hayden drove his new RC car in her hair. (You can’t tell:

)

And Hayden continues to work on writing his name:

And you?

Categories
Fulfillment

I am Donald Duck.

My kids have been watching a lot of Disney channel lately. Sometimes between shows, they show short versions of old cartoons starring Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Goofy. I don’t know if it’s just the way they edit them, but there seems to be a trend in the types of stories these characters feature in.

Mickey, for example, totally forgets about a big, important date with Minnie. He hurriedly dresses, but on his way, Pluto tracks him down and accidentally . . . well, mauls him. He arrives wearing a tin can instead of a top hat, his tuxedo in tatters. As he turns to yell at Pluto for ruining the evening, Mickey realizes Pluto has just been trying to give him the tickets he left at home—and the dance is a “Hard Times” party. What looks like a disaster miraculously becomes a happy ending.

Goofy faces similar mishaps. My favorite Goofy cartoon of all time is “The Art of Skiing,” but just about all of his cartoons feature the same shtick: a lot of falling, injuries, bad luck, confusion, misguided attempts at following instructions, etc. In the end of “The Art of Skiing,” Goofy ends up in bed—he’s lucky to be alive. He made it through the day and took the hilarity in stride.

Donald, too, suffers from bad luck. One cartoon they often show is Donald following the directions on a radio cooking show to make waffles. Instead of baking powder(?), however, he uses rubber cement. His waffle batter basically attacks him, destroys his house, and causes him endless frustration. All of his efforts to get rid of the offending batter only make things worse—and make him more mad. In the end, he goes berserk, runs to the radio station, and beats up the show’s host. In another cartoon, he ends up trapped after fighting a folding bed all night. The closest he comes to winning is occasionally venting his frustrations, but he and everything around him end up hurt and broken.

But let’s be realistic: I’m no Mickey Mouse. I’m not even a Goofy. I’m a Donald. When things get rough, it seems like every effort I make just digs me deeper. And in the end, I’m a screaming, tantruming mess—and that doesn’t really make anything better either.

And since we’re being realistic now, it’s probably not realistic to expect that everything is going to magically be okay in one instant—especially not without any effort on my part. Note that all three characters have bad things happen. I keep thinking if I can just get to a Mickey Mouse Life, I won’t have problems. That’s just not true.

Maybe I can’t magically have everything go my way. But I can work on changing my attitude so I take my problems as they come and still be happy to be alive. Mickey Mouse might not be my future, but maybe one day, I can work my way up to Goofy.

What do you think? Which category do you fall in?