Motherhood.
Yes, you can do it. You of all people can do it because you’re kind, full of life and truth. It’s not easy and if you do it you have to constantly be working and reworking life (you) to stay sane. It will also force you to decide what type of mother you want to be and deal with who your mother is to you. The great truth is that you can be any type of mother you want to be. The only rule, other than feeding them and keeping them out of the street and away from MTV, is to be happy. The most important thing you can do for your children is be happy and let them see the truth of the days when you’re not. My kids see me cry, they’ve seen me get so upset that I’ve had to take a time out myself and go into my room and calm down. Having the kids around gives me the strength to go the extra mile to fight fair with my husband or the asshole trying to merge on the freeway. It’s easy to be a jerk to your spouse when no one is watching, but when you realize you’re teaching them how to argue, cope and behave you get your act straight a lot faster than you would have otherwise. You can be lazy and not shave your legs but you just aren’t lazy anymore with the important stuff. But sometimes you won’t do it right and you’ll feel so guilty for yelling or having to have resorted to spanking (the kids, not the husband) and then you learn the lesson of forgiveness. At the end of the day if I feel like I have been honest with Noah and Isaiah and treated myself right, than I know I’ve done a good job. Jenny McCarthy in all her infinite wisdom said her biggest mommy ahah moment was that all her son needed from her was to just be. They don’t need organic food, they don’t need the best preschool, the best blah, blah, blah. What they need is you; Just you to sit and see them and be with them in a moment. And those moments are what make everything worth it, so worth it you might consider chasing the high with another baby. And I often feel like an alcoholic, not because I sometimes depend on wine to ease me into the moment and out of my to-do list, but because the way I survive is to take “it” one day at a time. If I look at the week and count all the diapers, and baths, and time outs and sibling rivalry, I’ll get overwhelmed and start fantasizing about running away with gypsies. But I haven’t run away yet and although my hands look like they’re 20 years older than I am because of constant washing, I’m the best me I’ve ever been. I’ve also developed these flat, wide, duck feet from being barefoot with the kids all the time, not so sexy but I have better balance. But as usual, I digress. Mothering forces you to look at yourself and get rid of the shit you don’t want to pass on to your children, since you can’t be prefect (although I sometimes almost kill myself trying) you also accept the stuff about you that is really okay like disarray and the occasional fast-food meal or that I have a ton of real issues that will probably go with me to the grave. In my greatest moments of clarity, which don’t come often, I see myself as perfect because of all my flaws and a better mom and person because of them. Mothering will make you aware of everything except where you left your keys or if you brushed your teeth yet today. You just start getting “it.” And some days it’s just a cliché but other days I feel it in my bones and the “it” is that all that matters is your family. Being a mom is the bullshit cold turkey. When you have a baby, a child, you don’t have the time or energy for bullshit. You can’t and won’t deal with the drama of girlfriends or family. None of the drama is that important anymore, and when you are faced with real issues like the reality of childhood diseases, predators and all the other million things that will keep you awake at night you have very little tolerance for bullshit whether is someone else’s or your own. I used to be so concerned about what other people were doing. Now I spend all that mental energy and time on the two people I brought into this world, not because I’m so enlightened, but because I have to.
There’s a quote I love that says something like, the decision to have a child is momentous, it’s like deciding to walk forever with your heart on the outside of your chest. Being a mom will make you so vulnerable and whenever a child is hurt or in need it will break you’re heart wide open. Oprah becomes harder to watch and injustice will frustrate you more than you could imagine. You’ll be more patient with the mother on the plane with the crying baby and want to run back there and help her. You do get an all access pass to a special group of woman. I was a judgmental little wench before Noah and Isaiah, and I still have a way to go, but I can step in other people’s shoes so much easier than before babies. I’ve realized all of us, especially mothers, are doing the best we can and the last thing we need is someone judging us. I can’t express in words how difficult “it” can be at times. In fact no one has any real idea of how hard it is until they’re right in the middle of it and it’s way too late to change their mind. Pregnancy is hard, labor is insane and parenting is the toughest thing anyone could ever do. I say parenting, but I really mean mothering. Mothers have more support from our husbands than we’ve ever had. We’ve lost a lot of community support that we used to get from family and friends. But you’d be a fool to believe that having a child with a man is 50/50. If you’re lucky and work everyday to motivate you may aspire for 80/20. Every day is a mental marathon that pushes you to your furthest limits just to prove to yourself that you can handle anything, and you can. I used to think the reason to have children was to send my love and ideals into the future, but I don’t feel like that so much anymore. I think having a child or children is a tool that God uses to fine-tune all my mess. Sanity was second nature to me before, but these days I have to work hard to not disappear, to drink enough water, to remember to eat, to not feel like an idiot around working women and to remember we’re just here to love and be loved. I’ve also realized that no matter how much we think we love our mothers it’s a drop of water in the ocean of love they have for us.
So, you can do it and you’ll struggle but you’ll grow and you’ll make friends who you think will make the struggle easier and then shake them because you were wrong. Then you’ll make new friends or reconnect with old ones. You’ll start floating through life a lot less concerned where you’ll end you and focus instead on the scenery. You’ll find your groove only to have them grow out of whatever stage was driving you nuts into something else equally as challenging. You’ll read books, you’ll hire help and if you decide to do it alone, you’ll hire a lot of help. You’ll write and continue being you because that’s the best example for any little girl or boy is to see their mom be a kick ass woman living her dream. You’ll be great and when you think you’re not (which you will, we all do,) you’ll call one of the club members and cry and moan and we’ll tell you you’re crazy, you’re the best mom ever.
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