I’ve been struggling to write. To find the time to sit down and write something thoughtful and eloquent is daunting when it feels like I’m just doing my best to survive the day to day of my life lately. Maybe survive isn’t the right word because deep down I’m doing more than survive.
And so here’s the version I can write while on a train ride home. The straight from my brain, no filter version.
After months of insecurities and worries and questioning myself I have finally realized, I’m a good mom. Maybe I’m not the picture perfect mom that can do it all (half my days I come into work with my hair in a wet bun and half my nights I’m still begging the baby to sleep) but I can say, and believe, that I’m the best mom for Brooklyn.
I’m not where I thought I would be. My baby isn’t sleeping 12 hours a night (we’re lucky with 4 straight hours these days) and maybe I haven’t lost my baby weight (stress eating is my nemesis) but I’m in a different place.
A vulnerable and so very real place. I’ve never felt such intense and overwhelming emotions in my life. I’ve never wanted so much to be a strong female role model. I’ve never cried so much, and so willingly, without feeling dumb or silly. I’ve never loved like this – so terrifyingly fiercely. I’ve never wanted for someone else’s happiness and health so far above and beyond my own. My life just feels elevated – the little worries and stresses that used to matter just don’t anymore. My daughter, my amazing, beautiful, smart and hilarious daughter, trumps all that nonsense.
And I’m proud of the mom I am. I know her. I know her and her little personality, and reactions so well. I know when something isn’t right – like the start of the awful coxsackie virus (hand, foot, mouth) that started earlier this week – my mommy intuition with her is spot on. I know how to slowly and patiently persuade her to take a bottle even if her mouth is covered in blisters and it hurts so damn much. Even on my worst days and worst moments, I don’t lose it with her. My patience that was once completely nonexistent has grown a million times over when I’m with her.
And I’m proud of the worker I am – the *working mom* I am. After sleepless nights and rushing home on days – I have become more efficient and productive than ever. Long gone are the “I’ll just stay late days” instead it’s *get it done*. My time is too valuable for bullshit these days.
But in being completely honest…
I’m still struggling to find me again. I’m a damn good worker and I’m a damn good mom but… What about everything else? What about my marriage? My friendships? My self care? (It’s been 6+ months since a haircut…) I’m not quite sure how to fit it all in. I run from moment to moment most days – so the idea of giving of sleep right now – wonderful, rare sleep – to workout or get even more done is just painful. The idea of giving up what minimal time I have with Brooklyn crushes me. But I’m getting there. Slowly I am caring that my body is far from the body I know, an extra 20 pounds hanging around. My energy levels are crap from living off coffee and fast easy food. I know that needs to change it is just figuring out how. I know I need and want time with my friends – the friends that I value so highly and need in my life forever, not the crappy ones. Ain’t no one got time for those people.
The truth is every time I think I have it figured out – “it” all changes. It’s one unexpected bump and change and milestone and development after another. But there’s a beauty in adapting and changing. For the first time in years I’m so far out of my comfort zone and it’s by far the most rewarding. And I wish I could eloquently put into words what motherhood has done to me but I can’t. I can’t quite explain it in tangible terms but it’s changed everything, in the most beautiful indescribable way. Me, my voice, my values, my actions, my worries, my significance – everything.
And so I’m just going to keep on keeping on. Adapting. Learning. Growing. Finding myself again, only a different version, dare I say a far better version than I ever imagined.