Signs I’m a Mom

By Sara A.

Obvious signs I'm a mom...

I like inventories.  They are fun to read, fun to write and a great way to concisely organize my thoughts. You can expect them from me often.  To start with, I thought I'd document the many obvious signs that I'm a mom.  The idea came to me this morning as I was drying my hair with a toddler clinging to my leg, while trying to drink my coffee and send a text at the same time.  "Only a mom has to deal with this" I thought.  This sent my mind reeling thinking of all the other obvious signs I am a mom, which have now been documented here for your delight.  Some are silly, some are serious...all, I hope, are relatable.

1. I can multitask like a pro.
2. I know what it means to love unconditionally.
3. I have snacks on my person or in my bag at all times.
4. I've been peed and pooped on more times than I can count....and managed to find it charming.
5. I know exactly where to kiss boo-boo's and owies to make them feel better.
6. I've mastered "the look."
7. I drive a mini-van.  And I love it.
8. I no longer swear out loud.  Just in my head.  And I do so liberally.
9. I'm scarier when I whisper than when I yell.
10. I love my husband more now that I ever believed possible when I married him.  And we were head over heels then.
11. I can function on 3 hours sleep on a consistent basis.
12. I sometimes put the milk in the pantry and my keys in the freezer.
13. I've left a load of laundry in the washing machine over night and forgot to move it to the dryer.....more times that I'd like to admit.
14. I am chronically late.
15. I regularly find spills or stains on my clothes that I KNOW weren't there when I got dressed in the morning.  They usually appear on my legs below my knees or around the neck of my shirts.
16. I know the difference between an Ergo, a Bjorn and a Moby.  And I have strong opinions on each.
17. I've memorized Goodnight Moon, The Sleepy Little Alphabet and Chicka-Chicka-Boom-Boom and can be relied upon to recite these on the fly in any situation.
18. Mary Poppins is in the CD player in my van.
19. I've been to more Recess Monkey's performances than any other band.
20. There are toys on my bathroom floor at all times.  I regularly step on them but can't be bothered to move them, as they will instantly reappear.
21. The majority of movies and shows recommended to me by Netflix are meant for children.
22. I haven't slept past 8:00 am on a weekend in 4 years.
23. Solitary trips to Target and Costco are considered "me time."
24. There is always sand somewhere.  Always.
25. Anything important or valuable in my home is stored or displayed at a height above 5 feet.
26. Happy Hour is the one hour between the time my kids go to bed and me passing out on the couch.
27. I own 5 car seats, 4 strollers and 3 baby carriers.
28. I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss tiny toes and to rub my face against baby skin.  I get giddy over that "baby smell."
29. I've been known to sway while standing in line to pay for my groceries.
30. Nothing makes me more content than walking in the sun with a sticky hand holding mine.
31. I'm used to repeating myself.
32. I am asked "why" at least 50 times a day.  Often more.  I usually have an answer.
33. I look at Zulily daily.
34. Whenever I see a mom nursing her child I smile and want to give her a high-five.
35. I can't listen to stories about bad things happening to kids.  I refuse watch the news because it's so stressful.  
36. I have an entire drawer in my kitchen devoted to sippy cups.
37. I am never bored.  Seriously, never.
38. I have multiple boards dedicated to various "kid" topics on Pinterest.
39. When I say my family I no longer mean my mom, dad and sister.
40. I have stretch marks.  
41. There are bulk boxes of Annie's mac & cheese in my pantry.
42. Organic fruit/veggie squeeze pouches are considered a treat in my home.
43. I now understand just how much my mom loves me.  I no longer find it weird (or not AS weird) that the first thing she wants to do when she hasn't seen me in a while is smell me.
44. I will punch you if you ring my doorbell during nap time.  Especially if I have managed to get both my children to sleep at the same time.
45. A ridiculous amount of my income goes to paying for childcare.
46. I know that my dog really isn't a surrogate child.  She doesn't even come close.
47. I consider what schools are in a given neighborhood to be a better indicator of it's desirability than what restaurants it has.
48. The faintest of whimpers will wake me from a dead sleep and I am instantly on high alert.
49. My boobs are shrunken and saggy.
50. I know that my life is more complete, more joyous and more meaningful than I ever could have imagined.

Body Image

By Sara A.

I love my body.  But I am still learning to like it.  Still learning to own it.  Over the course of the last 4 years it has been through so much.  It has carried two pregnancies, birthed two healthy beautiful boys and has nourished those boys for at least 13 months each.  In total, my body has been shared with another being for almost 4 years straight.

While I've been amazed and humbled by all that my body has been capable of, this process has left me feeling disconnected and distant from my body.  I look in the mirror and no longer recognize the body that I see reflected back to me.  Nor do I feel as comfortable in my own skin as I did before having kids.  

I think it all comes back to ownership.  I've given my body away.  For better or worse, it belongs to my children now.  It bears the marks that they have left behind.  This is what allows me to love it.  I love that I am so intimately connected to them.  That they have branded me for life.  Their marks are better and more cherished than any tattoo or piercing. They are real.  They are raw.

But loving the process and liking the outcome are very different things.  I'm having a hard time reconciling that the scars that brought me such joy are also responsible for making me feel so self-aware.  I am jealous of the women who flaunt their jiggly, scarred, real post-baby bodies and proudly exclaim that "THIS IS TRUE BEAUTY."   The women who can embrace with such courage these new vessels they've acquired.

I want to be that woman.  In my heart I am that women.   But in my head, I still want to do something about the stretch marks on my stomach and the pouch that seems to be a constant reminder that "you are a mom now."  

In all honesty, I think the truth is that my discomfort with the physical changes is really just a reflection of the profound inner changes I have gone through since having children. Pregnancy and parenting rock your world, physically and emotionally.  My emotional world is a land mine.  When I think of all the ways this world can (and in all likelihood will) hurt my children I am an absolute mess.  It is a feeling of complete and utter vulnerability.  I've never been in charge of the world, but before having children I at least had a sense that I had some control over it.  Since having kids, that veil has been lifted.

So, in the end, I focus on the physical.  I try to grasp at the last bit of control that I have. The only thing I might be able to control.  My body.

In Favor of Cry It Out (CIO)

By Sara A.

Listen, I'm no dummy.  I recognize that this topic is controversial and want to make clear that this post is in no way based on research or grounded in science.  This is merely my experience and opinion as I've lived it.  You will not find links to helpful articles in support of CIO, nor will you find legitimate evidence that CIO does not psychologically ruin your child.  In fact, I don't care a lick about any of that.  This post is really about sleep.  And CIO is a method that has helped me and my family (but most importantly ME) get more sleep.

I'm lucky that even prior to utilizing CIO I was blessed with two great sleepers.  In fact, the night we brought Roo, our oldest, home from the hospital he slept for 7 hours straight.  My husband and I were high-fiving ourselves on our good fortune until we took him to the hospital two days later and learned that it is, in fact, a very bad thing for a newborn to sleep that much.  But that is a story for another time.  My only point is that I have kids who were built to sleep and I suspect that might be a decent prerequisite to CIO working.

We used CIO with Roo starting around 8 months and it was successful after only 3 days, with the longest period of crying between putting him in his crib and falling asleep being 20 minutes.  After he was 9 months old I can count on three fingers (see if you can do that math, sleep deprived mama) the number of times he woke up and actually required any attention from my husband or myself.  Pretty simple to see the benefit there, right?  Put the kid to bed at 6:30 pm and you don't hear from him again for 12 hours....sign me up!  

Well since CIO worked so well for Roo we planned to do the same with Sealy when the time came, obviously.  But here is the catch, Sealy was an even better sleeper than Roo as a baby.  We never had any problems teaching him to self-soothe.  Since he was about 3 months old we've been able to put him into his crib drowsy but awake and he'd put his tiny little self to sleep.  No extended rocking, back-rubbing or any of that other nonsense.  In fact, I was sort of sad that he was so independent and wasn't going to need to be taught that it was okay to go to bed without me.  Boo!  

Well, it turns out you get what you ask for, because shortly after he turned one, Sealy really began giving us a run for our money.  He started waking up throughout the night crying and wouldn't calm down until one of us went into his room.  At first it was infrequent and all we had to do was give him back his pacifier and a few cuddles and he'd be off to dreamland.  Because we hadn't had to work at helping him sleep before I didn't really mind this occasional disruption.  But then it became more frequent and he was waking up every night.  And instead of being in and out of his room and back to sleep in a few minutes, it became a several hours long endeavor.  He would throw all 5 of his pacifiers out of his crib and cry until they were returned, only to throw them all out again.  Then he'd demand cuddles and relax and fall asleep in our arms, then wake and scream again once he'd been placed in his crib.  (Now I want you to know I'm using the term "we" quite liberally here because my husband dealt with most of his night waking.  Since I've night weaned I've been kind of stubborn about having to get out of bed in the middle of the night.  But this was all really loud while it was happening so I feel like it was highly inconvenient for me as well!)  

After a few weeks of this behavior my husband and I were exhausted and so was Sealy.  We were all bleary eyed, cranky and generally on edge.  Finally, one weekend my husband and I decided we'd had it.  After Sealy woke up twice in the middle of the night on Friday, ending with my husband sleeping with Sealy on top of him in the guest bed, we were done.  When we put him to bed on Saturday we prayed that he'd stay asleep.  But of course he didn't and around 3:00 am he woke up and cried.  Husband went in, gave him his pacifiers and came back to bed.  When he started crying again about 30 minutes later neither one of us could take it.  We decided this was it.  He was going to have to figure out how to get himself back to sleep.  Going in was becoming a crutch and we were too tired and cranky to worry about the psychological damage our letting him CIO might cause.  

So we let him cry.....and cry....and cry.  In total he cried for an hour, then banged his head on his crib for about 3 minutes and then he went to sleep.  If I'm being honest there was a small part of me that worried that he might have knocked himself out but I could hear him breathing through the monitor so I decided not to worry too much.  And he slept until 7:00 that morning.  The next night, and since then, he has slept through the night without any waking or crying.  And blissfully, so have we.  I've also noticed that he has seemed happier and more content.  Or maybe it's just that I am happier and more content so I can enjoy him more during his normal waking hours.  Either way, CIO was a blessing.  

Now, I know what people say about the stress babies are under during the time that they are crying and expecting you to come get them.  Some would say that I have taught my kids that I am only there for them when it is convenient for me and, in essence, that they can't really trust me.  Some could even provide science to back these claims up.  But I have a different perspective.  I think the stress that lack of sleep caused all of us, especially with Sealy, was damaging to our family.  My husband and I were so exhausted it was incredibly hard for us to be present.  We had shorter fuses and probably snapped more than we'd like.  Poor Sealy was also exhausted and emotional.  He would get upset about little things and we saw less of his eye-twinkling grin.  It actually started to feel quite depressing.  But when we all sleep, we all are happier.  Waking hours are more content and we can enjoy one another.  And when I sleep  I can be there for my boys, both physically and emotionally.  

There is a period of time in parenthood when sleep is elusive and getting any more than 3 hours at a time is considered a blessing.  I understand that phase and am willing to sacrifice during that time.  But I think it's ridiculous to extend that period of sleeplessness beyond what is biologically necessary.  CIO rocks!

Identity

By Sara A.

It is impossible for me to be honest about maintaining my identity without talking about why I choose to work. For me, the two are unequivocally connected. Working is the only thing that keeps me from losing myself completely to motherhood.

I had no idea what to expect from motherhood when Roo, my oldest, was born. I had friends who already had children and was given all the standard advise and heard all the lines that you tell new parents to be. Sleep while you can, sleep when that baby sleeps, learn to let things go around the house, let others help you, blah blah blah. But no one talked to me about how being a new mom would feel. No one told me about the love I would feel for this new little person, which is the purest and most intense thing I've ever experience. I didn't understand just how much heart would expand....to the point of busting...to the point that I would never be the same again. Roo instantly became my world. I devoted myself to him.

But devotion carries a heavy burden. Especially when you become devoted to a person who can do nothing, literally NOTHING, for himself. I quickly became consumed with the tasks of new motherhood.....breastfeeding, changing diapers, snuggling, soothing, etc. It was wonderful and magical. It truly was. But it was also hard. SO hard. Harder than I ever could have imagined. Just like I felt unprepared for the love that suddenly consumed me, I also felt unprepared for the work that consumed me. I was tied to this little boy by both love and duty. And it felt like there was really very little left for me. Very little left of me. Roo was it.

I remember my maternity leave with him so clearly. Those 8 weeks were some of the most joyous and life altering weeks of my life. But they were also the loneliest and scariest 8 weeks of my life. I felt really isolated. I'm lucky because I had a lot of support. Both my parents and my husband's were around a lot and gave me respite when I needed it. And my husband has always been active and engaged. After he returned to work he would still come home every day at lunch to spend time with us. But the majority of the time it was just Roo and me. And if you've ever spent any extended period of time with a newborn you know that they are not much for conversation. While incredibly engaging because of his very nature, my new baby really wasn't very engaging at all. I quickly forgot how to have adult conversation and I had very little outlet for all the new feelings I was experiencing or for my thoughts. When my husband would come home, at lunch or in the evenings, I would either be too overwhelmed to have any real conversation or I'd greet him with a non-stop stream of consciousness style rant. I also stopped really getting dressed and hung out mostly in black stretch pants and fleece.

I tried joining various "mommy" groups but I didn't ever feel like I really fit in with any of the other women. I can't say why exactly, other than I felt that the simple fact that we both have a small child was a pretty meaningless foundation for friendship. I also felt out of sorts when I spent time with my old friends. I felt that I suddenly had very little to contribute. I really had no idea what was going on in the world and didn't feel like my anecdotes about breast milk poops smelling like butter or baby spit up were real winners in mixed company. I started to miss work and the identity that I had established there. An identity that had nothing to do with my child or family but was just about me. I also missed the challenge and critical thinking that my work requires.

When my maternity ended I returned to work with a mixture of excitement, trepidation and guilt. But as soon as I walked in the door the first day back I felt almost giddy. I had missed this. A lot. I was really happy to be back in the world of adults and slowly felt like I started to get back to myself and who I was, or more, who I had become. Because it was obvious that I had changed. No longer was I willing I stay in the office until 7:00 pm to finish a project. No longer did I bring work home, or even think about it at home really. Because I was still devoted. I still am devoted. To Roo, Sealy, and our family. But that devotion can't come at the cost of me. It is a price that I am unwilling to pay. And a price that I think, in the end, would cost each of us dearly. To be the best parent that I can be I have to be at my best personally. And I can't do that without working.

I have two children now and over 3 years under my belt as a working mom. It is not always easy and there are lots of guilty days. But I've found that it is what works for me. Work provides me with a balance that I don't think I'm capable of achieving otherwise. And being a parent, a mom, I think has also made me better at my job. I have more balance there as well. I can't say that the choices I've made are right for anyone else. But I can say with certainly that working is the only thing that has kept me from losing myself completely to motherhood.