MomTime TV

When I read this blog http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpediem_b_1206346.html

I could only think how beautifully, thoughtfully and heartfully
written it was, the words roller coastered me back a dozen years or so to those days in
my life!
But what I found two days post blog is a subtle, gentle, but steady shifting of my
thoughts and reaction to her writing. She is so eloquently in the moment with a
description so perfectly pitched, so perfectly real that all of us moms out there think this
is my life, this is it, that is me. This happens to me all the time. Nobody knows what it?s
like.
And yes motherhood is a new discovery every minute of everyday, year to precious year
and season to season.
And so I want to offer perspective from where I?m at, presumably down the road about a
decade and a half. My thoughts are swirling, there?s so much to say and so many years
in between.
Let me start with...and don?t take this lightly...but there?s no job in the world like
motherhood, not fatherhood, not management, not nothing. And there?s no person in
the world like a woman turned into a mother!
My husband loves to talk about a conversation we had when our five kids were at their
youngest 0-8, 1-9, 2-10ish. Life was hard He had a demanding, draining, uber job and
he?d come home to a loud, manic house and an old wretch of a wife, trip through the
toys in the nuthouse to the kitchen where there was no hot meal waiting and no hope of
one either.
And he?s saying what have we done? What have we gotten ourselves into? How do
you do this? How are we going to get through it? And in one brief snap of clarity, I
responded. “This is as hard as it?s ever going to be. From here on out it will only get
easier.”
It may be a few years, but soon we will only be cutting our own 20 nails, not an
additional 100 nails a week. They will be able to dress themselves and carry
themselves and pursue those things that interest them. They will be able to drum up
their own fun, root for their own food, stay home when we run to the store. We might
even be able to go out to dinner alone without having to pay $100 for a babysitter.
I didn?t even provide the description, he saw it all in his own mind with those simple, but
oh so true words...”This is as hard as it?s ever going to be. It will only get easier.”
I remember aspects of those days so vividly in spots and so cloudy in others like flying
through a fog with splotches of bright light, but the fog keeps moving and the clarity
keeps changing. As time passes, we forget the intensity and helpless, hopeless,
desperation we once felt. We look back and see ourselves in the picture, but somehow
it?s calmer, more manageable. A lot of the emotion of the moment are gone, whatever
we were worried about or trying to accomplish are no longer relevant, that part of the
scene is wiped clear.
When my kids were babies, the doctor might say, oh that problem may be all gone in 3
months. 3 MONTHS! That?s a long time, I can?t wait that long. And then the doctor
says, but it could take a year. Oh no, that?s forever. Or says the doctor, in some kids it
lasts 10 years or longer. Eternal, it will never change. With little ones, life roars to a
crawl, a turtle pace. Everything takes forever.
With my first baby, I offer... here take the rattle. That baby couldn?t even find his thumb,
not a chance would he grasp a rattle and hold the weight. So every week I would try
that rattle and I?m wondering, why do they make these things? This baby can?t lift a
finger, just eat, poop, and cry. What seems like decades later, he finally snatches that
rattle and tries to guide it to his mouth. Eons later, he finally sits by himself. And then a
loving relative who hasn?t seen him in 5 months comes in and says, “oh my he?s grown
so fast.
These are the dog days of child raising where you think nothing will ever change. It will
be that way until the end, this is my life the rest of my life and I will slog through it.
And then miraculously the 5 slowest years on the planet melt away and suddenly you
are grasping your child?s hand into kindergarten. Some moms cry, some take pictures,
all are there to measure the moment. Cause we never thought we?d get there did we?
If you still have little ones at home the significance of that first school day diminishes,
the workload and commitment are still stifling. For me, it wasn?t until I took the last one
to his first day of school that I realized, my oldest was starting high school and the years
were GONE. I mean like head twirling gone.
Now as my 5th child lunges for the finish line of 5th grade, my 2nd child gets ready to
graduate high school and leave for college. The child numbers in the house ceased to
grow years ago, but now they are dwindling.
Soon my husband and I will be staring at each other in a suddenly large, utterly quiet,
empty house and wonder. What happened? Where did the time go? Can I have some
of those precious moments back? (yeah, now they?re precious)
The toddler who pulled the pickle jar off the shelf in the grocery store, broken all over
the floor might be a law school graduate this year. The baby who had me in the doctors
office 5 times a week for the first years might be beginning a physical therapy career.
The one who projectile vomited all over the lady behind us in line may have her own
fashion design business. The drama queen who threw the temper tantrum store goers
are still talking about may be the new model on the cover of Seventeen. The one who
for years refused to be potty trained could be a professional football kicker. Well you
never know, right?
And as proud of them as I am and as much as my love for them has grown and
enriched over the years and as relieved as I may be that they are all okay. I can only
look at you in the store and say, “these are the best years. Enjoy every minute of them.”
There is no job like motherhood. There is no way to explain that. There is just nothing
in life that takes us over like that. It?s an about face. It?s a searing, jaw dropping
expanse of experience that all mothers share, but feel unique in. It?s a demanding,
disturbing, paralyzing job full of opportunities, discoveries, regrets, indecision, pleasure,
purpose, pain and immeasurable joy. Essentially we give up everything we?ve ever
worked for or thought we were and cast it aside for an infinite time in order to love and
care for, teach, fill, create and let go of another human being, one that is so like us and
so unlike us we can only shake our heads at the miracle of it all.
There are no personalities like women. We tend to think we?re the only ones who?ve
ever experienced an experience. We feel deeply, we think deeply and though trillions
have marched before us in similar circumstances, we think we are unique. We are
totally demoralized if our sense of perfection is ever called into question. And although
we may cherish our friendships with other women, we?ll snatch ourselves away if they
don?t meet our expectations. Instead of reveling in the help of those who?ve braved this
road before us, we choose to wave them on and go it alone, thinking we can light a
better path and cast a brighter shadow.
We live in the moment. Then we live in the next moment and then the next like leaping
onto completely different lily pads that have no relation to each other. Then suddenly
we are on solid ground gazing at those lily pads and the total picture of our lives and our
contributions, the cost and the reward all blend together and at last we can see the
forest through the trees, the rhyme and the reason, the why and the wherefore.
Wisdom. Well earned. Now cherished. Ready to share. Make it easier for the ones
still behind hopping the lily pads. But can they see through the mist, can they hear
through the haze? Can they take it in? Or are we only able to hop alone. Singing our
own song? Can we hold hands and hop together? Can we do it for our kids and for our
daughters who will be mothers?
At some point (if I live long enough) I count on being able to look back and say, I?ve
weathered the flurry and the storm of motherhood. I gave it my best and it actually
worked. Why would that be the most important thing for me to say? Generations! We
want to lift our kids on our shoulders so they can see farther and do more than we were
ever able to. And we hope that our kids will see it the same, that they will lift their kids
onto their shoulders.
As moms, it would be nice if we could do that for each other too.
So in answer to the mom who wrote Carpe Diem. . .
It will happen, more quickly than you could ever imagine. You will become the old lady.
You will have traveled that road. You will become that old lady and you will be so very
grateful for the journey. Not today. Not tomorrow. But in the end.

I’m pretty sure that even as I age, I remember it right.  And what I’m sure of is that I did not think anything about what it would take to raise kids.  During my pregnancy all I could focus on was healthy, normal, boy, girl, what’s going on inside me this week, when will it move, is it moving enough, what does he/she look like, when’s the due date & can we move it up.  

When it came to kids issues, I was still worried about my own issues and at that stage when it came to babies, it was diaper changing and bathing that freaked me out.  After all what else is there?

So I got into motherhood, probably the same way a lot of us do, focusing on me and not giving a whole lot of thought into what was to be.  What I had yet to realize is that my issues, my life would fade in comparison to their issues and their lives.  That’s a rather brilliant part of motherhood, allowing your own selfishness to sink in order to pour yourself into your child.

For me the hardest part about a new baby is bringing them home from the hospital.  It shocked me that while they seemed to sleep so happily at the hospital, once home they immediately went on guard, awake and screaming.  And hungry!  The key to helping your milk come in faster is malt, so splurge!  At some point from the first baby to the fifth, I just gave up that first night or two and rocked the baby...bonding.  It was less frustrating I think for both of us!

Today, my morning looked clear, I still had deadlines a day or two off.  Most kids still at school, well at least until noon when the high schoolers are scheduled to return, but basically a quiet, open morning to write.  Yesterday I had focused on all the small, tedious, but necessary tasks to be done.  That I did, thinking my mind would be clear and I’d be less apt to procrastinate over something tweesie!

And so as everyone else in the family set out on their day, my husband realizes, oops I forgot to pay a bill and I forgot to pick up something I need right now.  Can you do that and I’ll come home at noon and get it.  And that reminded me that I also had an errand to run for my oldest son, even though he can drive, he has a car, he knows where to go and he could do it.  Still I knew I would do it and already I’m connecting the three errands into one.

Then my middle school daughter, the one who leaves last comes down to the kitchen just 5 minutes before bus time asking me what she can pack for a lunch?  Pointing out that we have cheese and fruit and these granola things all of which she scrunches her nose at, I mention how about peanut butter & jelly?  Where’s the peanut butter she wants to know (it’s only a 64 oz jar), oh and that jelly is old!  It’s not old and it’s not like it’s been sitting out and open forever.  C’mon.  We’re out of small ziplock bags, she argues.  Here use this I say.