MamaBlogga

It’s been three months since Hayden “customized” my glasses, and I’ve been making do ever since with shoddily-taped-together glasses.

While I was visiting my parents, my mom asked me several times why I haven’t replaced them yet. I didn’t really have a reason, but sometimes I tried to tell myself that my glasses were just one outward manifestation of what it meant to be a mother—sacrificing yourself for your child’s well-being.

And in a way, it was, but the reason is much larger than the martyrdom of motherhood. It’s not that I can’t take time for myself and spend an hour picking out frames and return a week later to have them fitted. It’s the fact that Hayden wouldn’t like it. He probably wouldn’t stand for it.

A lot of the time, I do dwell on the things that I can’t do now that I’m a mother. But last week, I realized that I really could do things like that for myself. It’s that I choose not to. Some of it is because I’m a mom and I feel like I can’t take time for myself, but a lot of it is that I’m not just living for me anymore. I’ve become so accustomed to being Hayden’s mother that I know what he likes to do and what he wants to do—and what will probably make him throw a fit.

But just when I think I know him, he goes and grows up some more. Today we went grocery shopping and throughout the 90-minute trip, he fussed just once (and threw his snacks on the ground just once).

For a few hours, I got to feel like a great mom—he was the happy, zany boy that he is growing up to be. He found his bath hilarious, he thought drumming on his belly hysterical and I was sad to see him go to bed, even though he didn’t make a sound once I laid him in his crib. I was living my life for him for those few hours, and it felt amazing—good enough to forget the many hours I’d tried to work earlier today with Hayden almost constantly clamoring for my attention.

For someone whose only real words are “hai” and “Mommy?Mommy?Mommy?Mommy?Mommy?Mommy?Mommy?” it’s amazing how much he’s changed my life—my priorities, my patience, my expectations—but most of all, today I can really appreciate how my little guy has changed my happiness—even if I can’t wear my glasses out of the house.

This post is part of Summer’s Group Writing Project—hurry to participate this weekend to make it in by the deadline!

Wow, ladies. I’m very impressed! I threw out what I thought was a very “angsty” post—which I thought could be (and would be) easily dismissed. But many of you took the time to write thoughtful, heartfelt and most of all helpful answers. Would I be presumptuous to say that they were written with concern, compassion and sympathy?

I’m just so impressed that I wanted to highlight many of the responses here. Now, I know that not everyone has struggled with feeling dissatisfied, burdened, inconvenienced or whatever you want to call it, but I was very relieved to have my suspicions confirmed—I’m not alone.

I acknowledged in my post that adjusting my expectations was one way of trying to deal with this. (Although I’m not very good at that all the time.) Robin had further advice: go specifically to kid-friendly places. As silly as this may sound, I actually usually do try to struggle through dinner in a sit-down restaurant with Hayden (on the infrequent occasions that we actually go out). I have learned through sad experience that this is a recipe for disaster. Robin points out the importance of lots of entertaining toys for tots in public. Let me add that you can never have enough toys. And nothing you offer a child who has developed a taste for soda will satisfy his desire until you share with him.

Madame M points out that realizing the importance of spending time with your children is another way to appreciate it more. She’s absolutely right. In ten years, are you going to remember snuggling with your children or that episode of CSI:? And what will they remember? Perspective doesn’t always make things easier, but it can make the right choice more obvious.

Lindsey, my friend of whom I was jealous, says that it’s important to remember—and even okay to acknowledge—that we, as moms, have needs and desires, too. That’s a problem that I deal with in this area, too. I get so tired of subjugating my needs to his—sometimes I just want to take a shower or read or knit or eat in peace. Eating, sleeping: pretty basic needs, I think. I’ve been known to think, “Okay, Hayden, you win. You win. You win—again. I am nothing; my physical needs mean nothing; you win. I am broken. Again.” (That was especially common when he was a year old and still not sleeping through the night.) It sounds pretty psycho in the light of day, but I still remember very keenly that feeling. I’m a mother now, but I still have wants and I still have needs—and thank you, Lindsey, for reminding me that it’s okay to recognize that!

Julie felt like she was going out on a limb to say that she just found it easier to parent older children. Lucy agreed with her. Even with my limited experience, I believe that there are certainly easier ages to parent (and those ages are due to personality and personal preferences for the parents and the children alike). I know some men who feel like they’re all thumbs around newborns (and go so far as to tell their friends that they don’t really like babies!). As much as I loved Hayden, I found the newborn/zero feedback/blob stage very challenging. He is so entertaining these days (he was a total ham for my extended family at dinner last night!)—and by the same token, so exhausting. He really is a good kid, though.

Bellevelma—yes, it does help to hear that time will help. I’ve got nothing but time. In fact, I think that was a prevailing theme throughout most of the comments: Robin and Bellevelma both said it outright, and I think that time is also a factor in being able to better parent older children, like Julie and Lucy said. There are two things that change with time: us and our children. Our children grow and mature and suddenly become more manageable (we all hope!) and presentable in public. We also grow and mature and earn more hard-won patience and parenting skills. Kinda cool how that works.

Offline, my mother also suggested reading scriptures about charity to help build my patience. (I tried reading scriptures about patience; it made me impatient :\ .) I really believe that being a mother is God’s will for me (and for most women), and that I’m doing the right thing by dedicating my life to my children, as hard as it is. In fact, I’ve come to believe that a major reason why we’re supposed to have children is because this life is the time for us to learn to be humble, to cease to be selfish, to soften our hearts, to give up our will for that of God—and I really feel that having children can teach me that, if I let it.

Thank you for all your responses. Really, you helped to lift my spirits.

The bottom line: I’m jealous. I tend to avoid going out most of the time (this week has been an exception with my family support system!) mostly because Hayden always seems to melt down the fastest out of the house. My friend Lindsey blogged a while ago about what she called her “motherhood discovery.” She realized that she didn’t mind playing with her daughter in a movie theater lobby or the play ground at a baseball game instead of watching the ‘real show.’

I think what’s happened is that I am really starting to enjoy being a Mom. Don’t get me wrong, I have always liked being a Mom. I mean, I am doing what I have always wanted to do. But I feel like I appreciate the time I have with Sadie more. I no longer look at all the time I spend taking care of her as work or boring or even monotonous. I’m not sure how or when things changed for me but I’m sure glad they have. Sure, I still look forward to when she naps so that I can get a few things done but I don’t dread hearing the sounds of her waking up like I use to.

Hayden is four months younger than Lindsey’s daughter, but I’ve really begun to doubt that I’ll be in the same place at that point. I’m trying to adjust my expectations, but I’m still more selfish than I’d like to admit.

How do you get there?

Today’s post is from a friend of mine. She posted it on Facebook this week and with her permission, I’m reposting it here today.

For some strange reason I don’t seem to get this thought ingrained in my brain. Or maybe it’s just stronger every time I realize it. I don’t know for sure, but I do know that motherhood continues to surprise me with its fulfillment.

Never in my life (which has been somewhat short but very full) has anything been as fulfilling as motherhood. I don’t know why that keeps surprising me. I’ve grown up knowing that this would be the best thing I could do with my life. And yet, the ins and outs of it surprise me daily. Never have I been so challenged, learned so much, or been so happy as I am as a mother.

I’m not sure I would have believed someone telling me that my heart would practically burst with happiness when my son sings songs with me or when I hear his guttural laugh as I poke his little tummy. How does something so simple give me so much joy??

Why do some people bag on parenthood so much? Do they know what they’re missing? Or have I somehow tapped into something rare??

I don’t know, but whatever it is I love it! God sure did know what He was doing when He made His plan for us. I suppose that goes without saying.

What do you think? Is her fulfillment in motherhood rare?

Speaking for myself, I know there are many days when I don’t really feel fulfilled as a mother. And honestly, I think much of the time it’s because I get bogged down in the minutiae and the work. The two examples my friend gives here, both of enjoying time with her son, are examples of the type of times when I feel most fulfilled—when I take a step back and just let myself enjoy the moment, without stressing about the vacuuming or the blogging.

I can also see clear ways that I can improve in this area (by worrying less about those other areas!). What do you think we can do to help ourselves feel fulfilled and enjoy time with our children more?

How do we get women to stop saying, “I’m just a mother”? Or, “I used to be such and such, but now I’m just a mother?” We need to market motherhood. So I came up with a saying: “Motherhood: 24/7 on the frontlines of humanity. Are you man enough to try it?

—Maria Shriver, The Oprah Winfrey Show, 29 Apr 2004

I know I’m not the only one out there promoting motherhood. One of Maria Shriver’s goals as California’s First Lady is to empower mothers. And while I’m greatly heartened that motherhood has such a prominent and vocal proponent, I think (as I’ve said before) that we have to strengthen motherhood from the bottom up.

What do you think? Should we try to change society or our hearts first? And what’s the most effective way to do it?

“Finding fulfillment in motherhood” is not just part of the title element of this blog; it’s part of MamaBlogga’s mission. However, I know that using the word “find” is misleading.

It makes it sound as though one day I’m going to wake up and feel whole, completely satisfied in my life as a mother. It makes it seem like there’s something waiting out there for me. It makes it’s seem like one Christmas morning, I’ll unwrap a present and be able to hold up my fulfillment for everyone to see—”See? I finally found it! It’s my fulfillment!” In this analogy, it’s a tangible thing, something that I’ll earn or discover one day, never to lose again.

Last week I was in Target and saw an inspirational poster that read, “Life isn’t about finding yourself; it’s about building yourself.” That really struck home with me. I realized that life isn’t about finding fulfillment either.

It’s about building fulfillment. It’s about accumulating a type of accomplishments—relationships—that might not win you awards or paychecks, but will sustain you like nothing else can.

And it’s something I’ll have to work to build every day.

Have you started building your own fulfillment?