Archive for the ‘Motherhood’ Category

Secure Parenting

Monday, August 18th, 2014

 

The best thing about having growing children is that, with them, you grow too. If you allow yourself the opportunity, with your children, you get older and, hopefully, wiser. Things that once seemed so important just aren’t important anymore.

Like with my first daughter, I was obsessed, at one point early in her newborn months, with measuring my “success” as a mom by her fecal outputs. So, every day, I would track what she’d poop on excel sheets and fret about changes in consistency, color, and frequency.

I know now that doing this was not normal but for the longest I could not really figure out why. I mean I knew it was impractical.  That using excel sheets in motherhood as if your baby will someday be the topic of a Monday morning status meeting is inappropriate.  But I didn’t really know why or why I did this and what doing this really said about me as a human being.

Part of being a parent, a secure parent, is trusting that what you’re doing now is worth something good and that you can, in fact, do this. And do it well. To be a secure parent, you have to be a secure human being. You have to be secure in yourself and your worth and the idea that everything you choose to do with your children is because you chose to do it.

Trust. That’s the word that comes to mind when I think of what changed in me between the four year gap between child 1 and child 3. I think with age and maturity, when my third daughter came into our lives, I had that, or I had trust.

I trust more in the universe, and in the worthiness and very possible, yet, monumental and sometimes treacherous task of raising children.

I thought poop was my stand in for trust. I thought so long as the poop was right, I was right, doing it right.

But I was so wrong.

Your success in motherhood can’t be measured that way, not by poop or any other thing you can legibly record on paper.

You success in motherhood can be measured only in your heart.

You trust at some point that you’re doing it right because it feels right. And this works because by some point, maybe with five years or maybe three kids in motherhood you realize that you can trust your own feelings.

You trust that you are wise, wise enough to know when your child needs to be held or put down. You trust where they should sleep and how and that if they don’t poop for a day or if that poop is like pellets it will be okay, that you know what to do. Increase their fluids and wait. It will get better.

You can’t get here by studying the numbers. Trust me, I’ve tried. You only get here with some combination of time, acceptance, and self love. That’s it.

My daughter is one today. Yeah. I don’t really know how this happened either. But I do know that I am thankful for this day and how far my family and I have come in this past year with her in our lives.

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mother’s day is…

Sunday, May 13th, 2012

I used to always want to be a mother, just to be considered part of Mother’s Day. I didn’t really think myself deserving of the “honorable” meanings of the day. No. I think I just wanted someone to celebrate me. I wanted a gift on a day that a lot of other women were getting gifts.

I think.

But now that I’m actually a mother, the meaning of Mother’s Day has changed for me. Now, I do value the day, but when asked by my husband what I’d like in honor of “my” day, my requests were small: a trip to the thrift store with my children, my eyebrows threaded, and a pair of new sunglasses. Those were my “gifts,” but more than that I wanted to spend the day with my family.

I wanted to celebrate with them this new place that we’ve found ourselves in at this point in our lives.

Mother’s day is a day of mothers or women who have given something of themselves for others.

STOP.

What does Mother’s Day mean to you?

you don’t have to be rich to do what you love

Monday, April 2nd, 2012

I heard this in a commercial the other day. “You don’t have to be rich to do what you love.” Hmm. That’s the truth. But I never really thought about that as the truth before.

Before, I used to wish to be rich so that I could afford to have the leisure, the time to really pursue my hobbies, or my hobbies of writing and photography. Jobs suck in that they distract you, sometimes, from those things. I worked at a job from the time I graduated college until my first daughter was born.

I didn’t really pursue my hobbies then because I spent so much time working and thinking about work. No, I take that back, I didn’t really pursue my hobbies then because I didn’t really want to pursue them on top of my paying job. So, then it was in mind, “If I were rich and didn’t have to work, I could REALLY do what I love.” But that’s not true. You don’t have to be rich to do what you love. You just have to be committed to do what you love whether you get rich or not. Yeah.

Right now, I’m not rich. And I’m not saying that as some do to sound modest. No. Seriously. I’m not rich at all. But I’m doing what I love, I’m writing and taking pictures and…mothering. Hmm. Mothering. I never really thought of that as a kind of job to list in my dreams of doing what I love, but it is, I realize now.

I do what I love and that’s why I feel, without a paycheck, most fulfilled at this point in my life. I feel most happy at this point in my live.

I’m doing what I love.

STOP.

How do you interpret the quote, “You don’t have to be rich to do what you love”? What’s it got to do with your real life?

something domestic

Monday, March 5th, 2012

I never really imagined myself as a someday domestic.

When I was in college and pursuing my degree in English, I thought I’d be a teacher, or maybe a writer, or maybe PR professional. Honestly I didn’t know what I was going to be with a degree in English but with my degree in English I felt I needed to “shoot” for the stars, or the most high paying job I could according to that online “salary calculator” I found as a Junior.

And I was shooting for a different version of the stars after college. But then motherhood happened to me and my plan to “shoot” for the stars as a professional changed. Now, I am a mom who works in her home as a mom/familial CEO/house cleaner/interior decorator/wife/and…

I assume a lot of roles in this role that I currently occupy. And while some may not value the work that I do here, I do, and usually I can see the value of my work to this moment in my current life.

Usually, I can see beyond what society may think of my domestic work and value my work as valuable because it really is. I can cook decent meals and clean carpets and …. Hold on. Did I really just count “carpet cleaning” as one of my skills? Geez, that sounds so small, so unimportant in the grand scheme of “real” life. But it really is a skill I have now that I didn’t before becoming a domestic…person. Really!

STOP.

How do you stay mindful of your value if you aren’t directly contributing to “normal” society?

5:30 am

Thursday, February 23rd, 2012

I remember hearing of moms who would wake up at 4:30 am in the morning to do a morning run by 5:30 am. I remember hearing of these women as a single woman and thinking that they were crazy.

“How or why would anyone wake up so early to work out?”

I was waking up at 8 am then. I wasn’t a parent then. My time was my own then. 12 pm trips to the gym on a whim because I ate more than 2 brownies were the usual then.

Now, now, I’ve become on of those parents. This morning I woke up around 4:45 am to get to the gym by 5:30 am. It was insane and my body wasn’t really ready to get up, but in pulling in the parking lot of the gym and having the thought that my kids were still sleeping, that this time was my time, that, well, that was enough to make things seem to make sense.

As I walked into the bright gym it smelled of cleaning supplies and old rubber. Two old guys sweated it out on elliptical machines.Some older women in black walked the treadmills. And some women lifted weights while positioned in a squat.

I have a baby and a toddler at home. I have a baby and toddler at home who are not sleeping through the night, mostly, but somehow when I sat on the recumbent bike in the corner of the women’s room, it felt right. It felt like I was supposed to be there, like all the stress, the fatigue that I should have had on account of my life’s demands, they weren’t as important as before.

So, tomorrow, I’m going to the gym again at 5:30 am in the hopes of becoming (and staying) one of “those” parents.