8 Truths about being mom

Posted on March 27, 2012 by FoBaM-Jamie

No matter whose mom you are, no matter where you live, no matter whether you did breast or bottle, co-sleeping or crying it out, disposable or cloth there are some truths about being mom that are universal. Each of us in on a unique journey, but some things are always and forever the same …

Just when you think you’ve got it figured out – the game changes.

Parenting is not something you can master. Kids change every day. The minute you think you’ve got the perfect solution, they switch things up and leave you scratching your head and wondering what the heck happened. Get used to it. Learn to adapt. Flexibility is your friend.

Your decision-making process has extra steps.

Once upon a time, you could decide what to have for lunch, where to go on vacation, or whether to take that promotion without considering anyone’s needs except your own. Moms don’t have that luxury. As a mom, we run every decision through our internal “kid filter” to see how it will impact our children.

Time is fluid – slowing down and speeding up completely irrational ways. 

Welcome to “mommy time.” Scientists say that, although we perceive it that way, time is not linear. I admit I’m not completely clear on what they mean, but I do know that my perceptions of time changed dramatically once I became a mom. Minutes can seem like hours, and years can seem like days. It’s enough to make your head spin.

You’re never done. 

Don’t try to be. There is simply too much to do, to know, to be. The list of things you must do, should do, and want to do is endless. Motherhood is the ultimate “fully integrated” job. There is no clock to punch and no retirement date on the horizon. It’s cradle to grave – their cradle to your grave.

You have days when you feel like a complete failure. 

Expect them. Don’t waste too much time worrying about them. See the first truth and remind yourself that “this too shall pass.” We all screw up. We all do and say things we wish we hadn’t. But, life goes on and the kids still love us.

You have less time to think and so much more to think about. 

The amount of brain space needed to accommodate all the “mommy stuff” is astounding. Perhaps this is why we sometimes forget seemingly basic information like where we parked the car, our best friend’s phone number, or the dog’s name. It’s okay. Take one thing at a time and it’ll all be all right. Focus on the important stuff and let the rest slide. It’ll come back to you … eventually.

They won’t say thank you until much (much!) later.

Children don’t truly appreciate everything a mom does until they become parents themselves. I know I didn’t. How could I? I had no frame of reference – no first-hand experience. Now that I’m someone’s mom, I get it. Thanks, mom. Really.

You feel life much more deeply. 

Motherhood amplifies our emotions. We experience life more fully and feel everything more deeply. We cry more, but we laugh more too. Becoming a mom can feel like having a veil lifted. Suddenly, the world is revealed to you in all its insanity and beauty and terror and love. It can be scary, but motherhood also brings with it courage and conviction – we get everything we need to handle the new adventure.

Yep. Motherhood is a crazy ride, but it’s comforting to know that some things will never change. It’s good to know that every other mother out there knows what we’re talking about. We are never alone. Thank goodness!

What other universal truths can you add?  

I am mom, I am …

Posted on December 6, 2011 by FoBaM-Jamie

I am mom, hear me roar.

I am the matriarch, the task master, and the manager.

I am the protector – mama bear in all her fierceness and courage.

I am the healer of boo-boos, sickness, and hurt feelings.

I am the one who answers the question “why” … even when I have to make it up.

I am head of inventory, making sure we never run out of bread or milk or toilet paper.

I am a tutor, trying to keep pace with my student.

I am the voice of the law, making and enforcing house rules.

I am a cradle, rocking my child to sleep, soothing with stories and lullabies.

I am a master chef, trained in appeasing the finicky appetites of toddlers and preschoolers.

I am a chauffeur, on a tight schedule, making my way from stop to stop and back again.

I am an ally and a friend.

I’m the straight man.

I am invisible when I’m supposed to be, careful not to infringe on my child’s independence.

I am a singer of duets, a dance partner, and an artistic collaborator.

I am a cheerleader.

I am a safe haven, an always-open door, the light in the window that never goes out.

I am a conscience, wielding guilt with grace and good intentions.

I am a guru, imparting what wisdom I hold so that my child may grow wiser than me.

I am a student, learning at my child’s knee – discovering how much I don’t know.

I am the luckiest person in the world to walk through this life in this role, with my child at my side.

Image Credit: Photo of John Henry Twatchman’s painting by David Flam

My child is ….

Posted on November 29, 2011 by FoBaM-Jamie

My child is my second heartbeat, a sparkling piece of my own spirit who walks the world and creates her own light.

My child is a magical dichotomy of sweetness and fire. Her mercurial moods reflect the molten state of her personality as it is formed right before my eyes.

My child is an adventure, greater than any trek or expedition I could contrive. She is a world in herself and I am the explorer – navigating my way through unknown territory and discovering so much about her and myself.

My child is a challenge. She brings out my best and my worst. She pushes my buttons, my limits, and my boundaries. She is the reason I continue stretching and growing and learning.

My child is my second chance at being in the world in the way we’re meant to be in the world. She gives me new sight, new sense, new perspective. She lets me see the world, once again, as a place full of possibilities.

My child is my peace. When I stand in the presence of her sleeping form, I feel that all is right with the world.

My child is an open ended question with no wrong answer.

My child is joy. She is so full of mischief and mirth. Her joy in making others laugh is enough to fill my heart to bursting.

My child is a dream that hasn’t been dreamed yet. She is concentrated potential – bright and glittering, but with an indistinct form.

My child is a force of nature, making her way through the world in turns like a spring zephyr and then a raging hurricane.

My child is an artist, singing, dancing, and drawing her way through her days. She is a creator and a magician – letting her inspiration guide her without inhibition.

My child is a gift. She is a gift to me, to my family, to the world.

Image Credit: Dan Slee

Graduation

Posted on June 1, 2011 by FoBaM-Jamie

The start of summer heralds the end of children-sized eras. Whether they are graduating from preschool or college, this time of year is filled with goodbyes, celebrations, and the beginnings of new adventures.  Children close the doors on small chapters of their lives and move on to the next Big Thing. Driving through the streets of my small town, I see evidence of these transitions all around me – a group of high school seniors posing for prom photos on someone’s front lawn, soon-to-be Kindergartners touring the schools they will attend in the fall, high school graduates discussing college choices with friends over a latte at the local coffee shop, cars decorated in school colors and sporting window paint that says, ‘Class of 2011.’

My daughter is only seven and graduating from the first grade, but I know that her high school graduation is only moments away. I can almost see the years we have not yet lived flashing before my eyes. I have visions of her going to the beach with friends, performing in a school play, maybe getting the winning goal at a lacrosse game. I imagine the glow she will have on her first prom, her first date, after her first kiss. I feel my heart ache over broken friendships, confidence crushing disappointments, and the fallout of young love gone awry. I burst with pride over academic accomplishments, and – more importantly – accomplishments in kindness and empathy. I smile to think of all the small moments of pure silliness that will send her and her friends into hysterical laughter for no reason. I remember wistfully what it felt like to be invincible – ready to take the world by storm.

My daughter is only seven and graduating from the first grade. I don’t know if she will be in the school drama club or join a sports team. I have no idea who her friends will be and she certainly doesn’t have any suitors that I know of. I do not know what kind of student she will be. I cannot truly foretell what elation and heartbreak will befall her over these years. I know nothing of these years to come and yet I literally buzz with the intensity of all the hopes and fears that I have for my little girl. I know the road will not be without its speed bumps, but I feel a fierce hope that it will hold many joys, true love, and much laughter.

I look around me, see all the other journeys winding through these early summer days, and am overwhelmed by the immensity of life. Each child is on a path that is both the same and so different from those of all the other children. From the tiny babe just learning to be away from mom for an afternoon to the young adult heading off to college and a new and independent life, each child is still just a child in mom’s eyes. These kids are graduating every day – learning new things, taking new steps, becoming the people they are meant to be.

And we moms are graduating, too. We are learning how to let go, step back, trust that we’ve done our job, believe that our babies are ready for whatever comes next. We are growing into the moms we hoped we’d be – strong, supportive, loving. We will stumble. We will overstep the bounds of privacy or embarrass our kids in front of their friends or miss the signs of trouble on the horizon. Our children will stumble, too. They will keep things from us, lose their way, or make bad choices that will bring unwanted consequences. It’s okay. When they stumble, we will be there to pick them up.  When we stumble, they will help us dust off and keep going.

So, in this season of tearful endings and exciting new beginnings, take a moment to savor the beauty of inevitable change. It’s true that nothing stays the same, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We are here to grow and to help our children grow. Change is the catalyst for that growth.  Embrace it with enthusiasm, joy, and hope. That is the best graduation gift you can give.

Image Credit: Steve Schnabel