"Being a mom is the art of cramming your whole life into the two hours between when you put your kid down for bed and when you fall asleep on the couch."
Hi, friends! Welcome back! I just wrapped up my shadow in Nashville (well, Franklin), TN. I stayed with Bebe, who is a tutor, ELL teacher (English Language Learners! the new name for ESL), and delightful human. She's currently a stay-at-home mom, but she still tutors a little bit as well. Her husband Mike works at a sports training company; her daughter Charlotte works on eating real food and learning new words.
I've shadowed another stay-at-home mom, Stacey, and I've realized that that occupation is a calling and a privilege and a trial by fire. None of the sentences I write about it seem to really get at what I'm thinking, but that's a cop-out sentence, so I'll just go back to that quote at the beginning of the post:
“Being a mom is the art of cramming your whole life into the two hours between when you put your kid down for bed and when you fall asleep on the couch.”
That quote is funny because it seems so true. As soon as your kid wakes up, you're dressing them then feeding them then taking them to a park or a class or a playdate then feeding them again then putting them down for a nap. And what's a time of rest for them is work for you, because this is the only time during the day where you can clean the house without a kid on your hip or under your feet. Then they wake up, then you change their diaper then color with them then take them outside then take them back inside then put them into the carseat then get to the grocery store and take them out of the carseat then go all around the grocery store trying to entertain them and get everything on your list then put them back into the carseat then put the groceries in the car then drive home then (are you tired yet?) make dinner for them then try to convince them to eat dinner then make dinner for yourself and your husband then your husband gets home and brings the burst of energy you don't have then you go on a walk then give them a bath (or don't) then change their diaper again then put them in bed then read them books. Then, only then, may you go downstairs and act of your own volition.
And if at any point before their bedtime you wanted to call your mom, or eat dinner, or clean up the crackers they threw across the table, or pay bills or do laundry or dust or sit down for half a second, you have to be thinking about your kid at the same time. You're holding them with your free arm or entertaining them in their high chair or trying not to step on them as they crawl all over the kitchen floor. Spoiler alert:
This is very difficult.
tiny children's shoes all over a house are one of the beautiful things in life.
I hope those two paragraphs wore you out. Because staying at home and mom-ing all day wears you out. That's why it makes so much sense to say that being a mother is cramming all of your personal desires into the two hours post-bedtime.
But I learned from Bebe that, although live-for-bedtime easily becomes default mode, it's not necessarily the best way to mom. (*Disclaimer: Mom however you like, and you still have my support. Sometimes mom-ing is just survival and that is fine!! If right now you live for bedtime, no worries or judgement duhhh. I'm still your biggest cheerleader—these are just things I'm learning while a non-mom.*) One of the most difficult things about being a mom, it seems, is balancing your individuality with the part of your identity invested in your children.
I don't really have anything clever to say about that. It's just tricky. But as I watched Bebe, I saw her individuality come out her actions as a mom. The two weren't completely separate spheres—they blended. She spoke to Charlotte, listened to Charlotte, and got excited when Charlotte recognized the letter "Z" on a piece of paper (remember, she's a teacher). She went through the Sonic drive-through because she wanted a cherry limeade, but she also didn't eat dinner one night till after 8:00 so they could get Charlotte to bed on time. It was a game of give and take, and though I think it's one of the hardest, I'd also guess that it's one of life's most beautiful. Children are partially who they are and partially who their parents are, so of course mothers are the same way: their lives are partially their children's and partially their own.
One thing Bebe taught me was the idea of stepping away. Each week, she has a sitter come for a few hours so she can get away and have time to herself. She sometimes runs errands, because they're much faster when she doesn't have to take Charlotte in and out of the carseat over and over. But she usually doesn't let herself grocery shop, or do huge errands, because she doesn't want to feel guilty about going to a coffee shop and journaling.
That made sense to me. It goes back to what Anne taught me about the importance of self-care. If Bebe isn't charged up as an individual, it'll be hard for her to be a patient, loving, gentle mom to Charlotte. That lesson is so valuable. And I saw a picture of it in Bebe's life—in how she loved and served Charlotte 23 hours a day, but then took 1 hour to go get her nails done. I saw a picture of it on her back door as well, which featured a verse, and a grocery list. That, friends, is mom life—a balance beam with a baby in your arms.
notes on the back door
