Life Love Mom

Category: Momming

  • Another Trip Around The Sun

    Another Trip Around The Sun

    Last week was my birthday… 38 trips around the sun. Would you believe me if I told you I actually had to think about how old I was? There are days where I think I’m 36 and days when I feel 45. I’m not exactly sure why that is. It’s probably a combination of mom-brain, pandemic life and sheer denial. It got my wondering when I stopped counting the days until my birthday. When I got into my 20s, aging became a bit of a scary thing. I was never one to take the day off for by birthday, or plan a large party. I can’t put my finger on exactly why, but I have never really been a fan of celebrating my birthday. Don’t get me wrong – I love celebrating OTHERS’ milestones, just not my own.

    I remember when we were kids, we would count our age by 1/2 and 3/4. Turning double-digits or becoming a teenager was a big deal. N is turning 6 in August and proudly walks around telling people he is 5 and a half. Children can’t wait to become full-fledged adults. They can’t wait to be independent, make their own decisions, and grow up to be paleontologist-power ranger-dancers or vet-baker-babysitters. N can’t wait to grow up because it means he can own a snake as a pet and ride a motorcycle. J, ever the more thoughtful child, can’t wait to grow up because it means she can become more mature and have a family of her own. As children, we race to hit those milestones but as adults we dread them. Why is that? Somewhere along the line, the idea of ageing hits us like a ton of bricks, and we no longer embrace it. Instead, we inject it with botox and fillers and hope it fades into the background.

    I think part of it has to do with the idea that we want to slow down time. As parents in particular, there is a stark juxtaposition between wanting time to stop, not believing how fast things are going, and wanting to skip to the next stage. For me, time never felt like it went as fast as when I became a parent. There is something about living your life through your children that makes things go by real fast. To say that you want to freeze time is probably one of the most cliche parental statements. We want to keep our children in these little time capsules and keep them young and innocent.

    At the same time, though, we want to skip forward over the messy stuff. There is a part of us that thinks “things will be better when……” (insert the milestone of your choosing here). We are so certain that we just need to get over a particular hurdle and it will be peachy on the other side. SPOILER ALERT! It never gets better or worse, just different. There is always going to be another hurdle, mess, or milestone. My parents like to tell me that I have it easy right now, I just have to wait until they are teenagers – just another hurdle. I’m certain there is a lot of truth to that, as well.

    The other part, I strongly believe, is that being an adult is HARD. Some days, it feels like it’s overrated. The fountain of youth and everything that goes with it exists so we can relive the days when we had no fears, anxieties, or a true understanding of what this world really is. There are still so many days when I can’t believe I’m an adult. I have these fleeting thoughts… moments when I’m driving home or doing something around the house…. where I cannot believe I am living on my own.

    I talk to Hubby about this all the time. I tell him I can’t believe we *were* children, and now we *have* children, a house, a dog, a family, and all those other adult responsibilities. There are days when being an adult seems like an impossible task. When all I want to do is turn back the clock and go back to university when I THOUGHT things were exhausting. Boy, was I ever wrong! As a society make light of it in memes and comics; because sometimes humour is the only way to make our way through.

    So what do all of these ramblings mean? What is the point, really? As Jimmy Buffett says, birthdays are for “celebrating what I should have done, with these souvenirs of my trip around the sun”. The should’ve, could’ve, would’ve will continue to live inside my head, never going away. But those souvenirs he speaks so highly of? That would be my family. Hubby, J, N, and even the fur baby…. they are my reason for getting up and adulting every day. When the days are easy, when they are hard, and when they feel next to impossible. It definitely isn’t perfect but I would take 100 more trips around the sun if I could to spend more time with them. And that in itself is something to be celebrated.

    This is life. Love, Mom.

  • We Are All Bad Moms

    We Are All Bad Moms

    When I decided I wanted to start a blog, I knew in my heart this needed to be the first post. As cliche as it sounds, being a mom truly is the hardest job in the world. Yes, it’s the most satisfying but it is definitely not all rainbows and sunshine. When J was 2, I distinctly remember having a conversation with a friend. She had a daughter J’s age, and an older son. I told her that I was happy the “terrible twos” were almost done and asked her when it gets easier. Without skipping a beat, she replied “it doesn’t”. We laughed at the time – a laugh that was a combination of humour and fear.

    Remember the scene in “Bad Moms” where Mila Kunis announces to the entire PTA that every mom is a bad mom? (Sidebar, if you haven’t seen this movie, it’s a must see. I highly suggest you check it out!) Mila’s character goes on to say that sometimes she’s too strict, sometimes she’s too lenient. She laments that what works for one child almost never works for the other. Well I don’t know about you, but I was not-so-secretly raising my hands along with her. There is something freeing about knowing that being a “bad mom” is okay. That not every decision has to be perfect. It should be just that easy, right?

    Except it’s not. As moms, we are our own worst critics. We scrutinize every inch of our decisions with that little voice in our heads. Are we feeding our children too much? Too little? Are they too short? Too tall? Are they outside enough? Too much? Every decision is a rubiks cube of emotions and a see-saw of back and forth. It starts the day they are born, and it never stops. Never gets old. Never lets go. Don’t get me wrong, dads do this too. Some, even more so than moms. But there is a special place in our heads for mom-guilt. We feel guilty when we’re doing it, and we feel guilty if we’re not. There is no end to the madness.

    As a mom, my first years were trial by fire. I have never been good at learning as I go. I am a planner, an organizer, and a chronic over-thinker. This is starkly juxtaposed by Hubby who is a feeler and a doer. We do end up balancing each other out, which is good since two of the same would be a serious nightmare. I thought I could plan out life with a child, but life doesn’t give you that choice. So I was forced to maneuver through motherhood like the proverbial bull in a china shop. There were days I thought I has it all figured out, and there were days where I thought I was an absolutely failure. But when I look back, and look at my children now, I think we managed through it alright.

    Society doesn’t do mothers any favours. Mila’s “Bad Mom’s character states in her rant that being a mom today is impossible. Every now and then, first time mothers ask me for advice (and let me clear this is NOT unsolicited advice as society loves to dole out to moms….). My number one piece of advice is that motherhood is not just rainbows and sunshine. Feeding your baby is not going to be natural. They are not going to latch right away. They are not going to grab at the bottle immediately. It’s not like they show in the movies, and it definitely isn’t spoken about enough. Movies and tv shows will show moms as being perfect, and that everything will come naturally – from the moment they birth out a perfect 6-month infant. The mom is able to breast-feed perfectly, and the baby sleeps through the night on day 1. Then the mom wakes up super refreshed and dewy-faced, ready to face the day. This is so far from reality, it hurts to even type it. As moms, we need to talk to one another, and share the “ugly truths”.

    So what are these ugly truths? We are all, in some way, shape, or form, a bad mom. It doesn’t get better. But it does get easier for a hot minute. We will get into a groove and figure most things out. Then our children will grow, change, or evolve and we will be back to the beginning. Nothing is perfect. There is definitely no such thing as a perfect mom (no matter what you see on social media). The more we share this with one another, the more normal it will feel. And then maybe, one day, we won’t feel so guilty.

    This is life. Love, Mom.