I Give Up

There are days where I just give up. I’m not what everyone wants me to be. I’m not what I expected of myself. Becoming a mom changed my life so drastically, so quickly, so devastatingly that I’m still, now merely adjusting to the ever-changing pattern that is my new life.

I watch other parents enjoying their children. Talking about their routines and how their kid sleeps through the night at 5 months. I look at my kid, food splattered, fussy, squirming. They see the bags under my eyes. They see the trouble I have catching my breath. Behind these tired eyes is a brain that has not stopped calculating things since it was awoken from its bare minimum level of sleep.  It’s risk analyzing, compromising, and falling short.

There are so many different things to measure up to today. My baby eats foods I didn’t mash myself, non-organic veggies and formula. That makes me a bad mom, right? My kid has “screen time” and I don’t always “engage” with her. That makes me a bad mom, right? I lose my temper when she’s been screaming for 30 minutes and I can't figure out why. That makes me a bad mom, right? I never cook anymore, my laundry is in baskets and not folded and put away, my house is a minefield of toys and random baby things. That makes me a lazy mom, right? I choose some days to nap with my child (who only gave me 4 hours of sleep the night before) instead of cleaning my house or doing the dishes. That makes me a lazy mom, right?

I watch my non-children friends go to bars, events and they still invite me. I almost always back out unless it’s kid friendly. Why? We don’t have any family near by. We have no form of “free” babysitting. Whatever event you’re inviting me to it may only be $20 to attend but you need to tack on $50-$60 for babysitting.  This addition pretty much prices me out of being able to go to your event. Plus add on the guilt of leaving my child and add on that I’m still somewhat breastfeeding (what I can produce) so I won’t drink. 

Social media is a joke. It’s not Mother’s Day unless you post about it. It’s not your anniversary unless you announce it. I see people doing cleanses, special diets and posting recipes. Half the time I’m eating some reheated crap over the kitchen sink while my child throws food at me and you want me to switch to Paleo? You think I should try this diet that requires I spend money I don’t have on products or only organic foods or only meat free from hormones? I don’t have time to boil veggies and mash them down into palatable food for my child but you think I have time to make a smoothie for myself ? Or meal prep? Or cook and eat only free range chicken on a bed of organic roasted vegetables? Those that do have diets that they actually stick to I applaud you. Right now if I get any food in my gullet I see it as a win. 

My other mom friends are battling their own routine issues or are working moms equally exhausted at the end of the day or are stay at home moms doing outings while I’m at work and unavailable once I’m free. Some moms seem so much more settled in life than me. They have careers and make decent money while I’m still struggling in the dirt rubbing my two pennies together.  Their children seem to make sense and are almost rational human beings. They have a bedtime routine that works. They don’t have the panic behind their eyes that I do.

There is this insane amount of pressure and new mom guilt. An over abundance of  “do this not that.” A weird amount of comparing one mom to another. This mom is already working out and running marathons. Maybe you should get off the couch. This mom still cooks dinner every night. Maybe you should time manage better. This mom doesn’t leave the house without her hair washed. Maybe you should get up earlier to clean yourself up. Good for those mom. Here’s what I’ve figured out: It’s okay to give up on what is “expected” of you.  To give up on your home looking perfect. To give up on friends that don’t understand the new stress you’re under. To give up on being anywhere on time.  To give up on pristine outfits. To give up on seeing the new releases in the theaters. To give up on being the perfect mother. There is no such thing. 

It’s not okay to give up on your kid or your path as a mother. There is no one correct way to raise a kid and no two kids are exactly alike. You go into parenting with the absolute best intentions and you somehow, someway make exceptions. Give up on whatever you need to so you can adjust your focus to what truly matters now: that screaming rebel child that wants you to pick her up.

First Mother's Day

I wasn't sure how this day was going to hit me. Would I be overcome with emotions? Would I be sad? Would I be happy? It was hard to tell. Mother's Day is a loaded phrase for me. Last year, when I was 5 months pregnant my husband tired to make it special for me. I was wracked with fear. I didn't believe I would get to meet this baby growing inside of me. I was certain this thing that I wanted so badly was going to be ripped away from me. I thought about my mother and tried in vain to remember what I did for her the last Mother's Day she was breathing.

On September 27th, 2015 at 22 minutes before midnight, Naneki came screaming out of me. I was so very happy I got to meet this little version of Tim and I. When I lost my mother at 13 to a slow leak brain aneurysm, I told myself if I ever had a girl I'd name her after my mom, Nancy who went by Naneki. Tim and I were told we couldn't have kids and after a year of attempting just that feat we were starting to believe our doctors.

Naneki's due date was September 26th. At first I didn't think much of this date. Then my older sister said "How great would if be if she was born on mom's birthday?" It took me a minute to register, to remember. My mom's birthday was September 27th, 1947. The day I went into labor, my father, who flew in from Hawaii, was actually in Seattle attending my uncle's memorial. My best friend, Francie was in Sacramento for a wedding and my Mother-in-Law was certain I'd be late and wasn't able to get out of work early to leave Boston. I knew. I knew she was going to come on my mother's birthday. It was just so cosmically obvious. I also knew it would be while everyone was out of town.

Here I sit, holding my 7.5 month old daughter, who has my mother's name, who was born on my mother's birthday and I can't help but feel grateful. Nene has not been an easy child. Not by a long shot. While perfectly and beautifully healthy, she has had a laundry list of issues. She fights sleep like she's some kind of opponent in a Rocky Balboa film. In the early months, her gas and acid reflux made her scream for hours on end. I was very scared to leave my house with her. Things have mellowed out a bit in the last month or so. She's developing like crazy crawling, pulling herself up to standing, experimenting with free standing and relying on balance. She talks, she mimics, she fake sneezes and coughs. She actually smiles and laughs these days. Something we didn't see much of in the few breaks from the screaming when she was a newborn.

My husband is in the kitchen making me breakfast. My dogs are nestled beside me. I hold my daughter tightly and all I feel is thankful. Life could be so much worse. While I don't have my mother physically with me anymore, I can look back on how she handled us 4 girls. I can pull from those memories and carry on those odd songs, those silly responses to questions and that loving attitude. I don't know if every Mother's Day I will feel this appreciative. I'm pleased that this year, my first year, I'm able to reflect and enjoy my trials and tribulations as a mom. Maybe next year I will be sad and remember my mom or I will be stressed out and missing the point. This year. This year, though. I am happy that I have had the opportunity to be mom to this squealing, screaming, laughing ball of me.

Happy Mother's Day to all you veteran moms, first time moms, short lived moms and grandmas. You're more important to someone than I think you'll ever realize.