"I love you, just go to bed," I told Wade, my 2-year-old, when he came out of his room for the 25th time last night.
"I think he's scared," Peyton, my 10-year-old, said to me. "I think he needs you," he added.
My first reaction was annoyance. I had things to do. I had put in a full day, didn't they get that?
I played games, I read stories, I made meals, I cuddled, I compromised, I mothered. I was done.
Ready to watch my shows, write my stories, read my articles. Drink my wine, fight with my husband, be a grown up. I mothered, I was done.
But really, I knew better. We mothers know better. We are never done. We will always be mothering.
I laid down with Wade. I did indeed have so much grown up stuff to do--bills to pay, laundry to fold, blog posts to write, shows to watch. But Wade was scared for whatever reason, maybe from the new Scooby Doo shows he watched earlier in the day. If you haven't seen Scooby Doo lately, let me tell you they have upped the scary factor since we were kids.
I laid with him then tiptoed out of the room and then he got up and came downstairs and then I walked him back up, laid with him then tiptoed out of the room and then....you get it. We did this dance a dozen times until he fell asleep.
Each time I laid down with him I whispered "I love you so much, you are an amazing boy, such a good boy." I whispered it like a meditative self-help cassette tape I listened to years ago to try and help me get over my fear of flying. "You do not fear being high above the world in an airplane" the tape told me all those years ago.
Well I hope Wade knows, even though I am trying to lull him into a peaceful sleep, I do believe the things I'm telling him. While I am still afraid of flying, I want to believe that Wade knows I love him.
But who knows? Who knows if all my mothering is making a difference? Who knows if my sacrifices of sleep and career are making a difference?
I do know that mothers are in dire need of compassion from each other. Whether you work outside the home, in the home or in the yard. Whether you understand the economy or just know simply know the economy is making it difficult to make ends meet.
There's been plenty a big deal made about the, ugh, mommy wars lately. And I think it's crap.
It's crap that we, we mothers,turn on each other. It's not a competition. We all have shit in our lives, whether you work outside the home or not. We all have a story, a past, demons we are fighting, mountains we are climbing, dreams we are chasing. We are works in progress. We are tired. We are hopeful. We are trying our best. We are tired. We want nothing but happiness for our kids. We pray. We hope. We wish. We worry. We parent. We cuddle. We compromise. We mother.
Hey you Republican one percenter, yeah you. Sure I'm jealous of your nanny, but I get that you have shit you're dealing with. I get it. You're a mother. It's hard, but it's great.
Hey you, liberal lady, yeah you. Sure, you seem like someone I would totally love to hang out with, but I get that you have shit you're dealing with. I get it. You're a mother. It's hard, but it's great.
Get it? We're all mothers. It's hard, but it's great.
Here's a wonderful book of encouraging letters to mothers, from mothers. It's an amazing project of support and camaraderie, yes it exits.
Mother Letters E-book Trailer
Click on the link and download an ebook (PDF or Kindle) for only $6.99.
Remind yourself how powerful positive reinforcements can be.
We mothers sticking together--it's a pretty f-ing powerful thing. Because being a mother is hard, but it can be great.
Join the Jumping With Fingers Crossed Facebook experience. Which is another way of saying "like" the page. Click here.
"I think he's scared," Peyton, my 10-year-old, said to me. "I think he needs you," he added.
My first reaction was annoyance. I had things to do. I had put in a full day, didn't they get that?
I played games, I read stories, I made meals, I cuddled, I compromised, I mothered. I was done.
Ready to watch my shows, write my stories, read my articles. Drink my wine, fight with my husband, be a grown up. I mothered, I was done.
But really, I knew better. We mothers know better. We are never done. We will always be mothering.
I laid down with Wade. I did indeed have so much grown up stuff to do--bills to pay, laundry to fold, blog posts to write, shows to watch. But Wade was scared for whatever reason, maybe from the new Scooby Doo shows he watched earlier in the day. If you haven't seen Scooby Doo lately, let me tell you they have upped the scary factor since we were kids.
I laid with him then tiptoed out of the room and then he got up and came downstairs and then I walked him back up, laid with him then tiptoed out of the room and then....you get it. We did this dance a dozen times until he fell asleep.
Each time I laid down with him I whispered "I love you so much, you are an amazing boy, such a good boy." I whispered it like a meditative self-help cassette tape I listened to years ago to try and help me get over my fear of flying. "You do not fear being high above the world in an airplane" the tape told me all those years ago.
Well I hope Wade knows, even though I am trying to lull him into a peaceful sleep, I do believe the things I'm telling him. While I am still afraid of flying, I want to believe that Wade knows I love him.
But who knows? Who knows if all my mothering is making a difference? Who knows if my sacrifices of sleep and career are making a difference?
There's been plenty a big deal made about the, ugh, mommy wars lately. And I think it's crap.
It's crap that we, we mothers,turn on each other. It's not a competition. We all have shit in our lives, whether you work outside the home or not. We all have a story, a past, demons we are fighting, mountains we are climbing, dreams we are chasing. We are works in progress. We are tired. We are hopeful. We are trying our best. We are tired. We want nothing but happiness for our kids. We pray. We hope. We wish. We worry. We parent. We cuddle. We compromise. We mother.
Hey you Republican one percenter, yeah you. Sure I'm jealous of your nanny, but I get that you have shit you're dealing with. I get it. You're a mother. It's hard, but it's great.
Hey you, liberal lady, yeah you. Sure, you seem like someone I would totally love to hang out with, but I get that you have shit you're dealing with. I get it. You're a mother. It's hard, but it's great.
Get it? We're all mothers. It's hard, but it's great.
Here's a wonderful book of encouraging letters to mothers, from mothers. It's an amazing project of support and camaraderie, yes it exits.
Mother Letters E-book Trailer
Click on the link and download an ebook (PDF or Kindle) for only $6.99.
Remind yourself how powerful positive reinforcements can be.
We mothers sticking together--it's a pretty f-ing powerful thing. Because being a mother is hard, but it can be great.
Join the Jumping With Fingers Crossed Facebook experience. Which is another way of saying "like" the page. Click here.
You summed up everything I've thought this whole week about the Mommy-Wars.
ReplyDeleteYou work outside the home? It's hard. You stay at home and struggle? It's hard. You stay at home and have money? It still can be hard.
EVERYBODY has shit to deal with. I learned a long time that just because someone's baggage may not seem heavy TO YOU doesn't meant it isn't heavy for them. You never know until you walk a mile in their shoes.
Besides.. regardless if anyone thinks my opinion is valid because I went to college and still chose to stay home with my kids, I know it's important. And I share that opinion every time I go to the voting booth.