It’s almost Mother’s Day and I thought it was a fitting time to step out of my normal posting routine to do some apologizing. As the Mother of a three year old sassy pants little lady, I get it. But, before I was adorned with the fabulous title of Mama…I didn’t get it. Like, I really, really didn’t get it. And, it’s time for me to set the record straight with some long overdue love notes to all the Mother’s in the World.
This is a pretty raw post for me and I’m probably going to seem like a total jerkface. But, there’s no shame in admitting when you’re wrong (and boy, was I so very wrong about so, so many mama things). I guess the sweet revenge is what I’ve learned along the way 🙂 It’s made me better in every way possible.
Can you tell I’m stalling? Oh gosh, I can’t believe I’m going to admit half of this stuff. And, I just said “gosh”. I’m so nervous!
But, here goes. I present to you, The Letters.
Dear Mothers of newborns: I’m sorry I thought you were being dramatic when you would talk about “lack of sleep” and not showering for a week. It might make you feel better to know that my daughter is three years old now and I’m still struggling to get in my daily shower. And, I’m sure you’ve heard of the various sleep regressions that arrive out of nowhere as lil’ be’be’ grows? Um, yeah. We dealt with all of them. ALL. OF. THEM.
Dear Mothers who are still carrying the baby weight. I’m sorry I thought you were being lazy for not losing the extra pounds. I was an insensitive jerk (I can’t emphasize the words “insensitive” and “jerk” enough here). I spent much of my life thinking I was “fat” – but man…was I in for a rude awaking. You might be happy to know that I’m still struggling to lose those extra ten…fine, fifteen pounds. Oh, and I also still have super greasy hair and bloodshot eyes (see apology to mothers of newborns above). There are a million and one reasons why I haven’t lost them yet. I don’t need to tell you why. I know you understand. And also, I like cupcakes and cookies. So there’s that.
Dear Mothers who lost the baby weight. I hate you. Just kidding. I ADMIRE THE SHIT OUT OF YOU. I know how hard it is to find a spare minute of time to regroup after a long (and I mean long) day of shaping the hearts and minds of your very special little human. I envy your ability to wake up at 5:00 a.m. before the baby does to get some “you time” and whip that body into the fabulous shape it is. My workouts consist of 10 minute segments throughout the day – it’s a beautiful scene really – me, standing in front of the TV attempting to pump some serious iron while the little lady drops toys on my feet and the cat attacks my leg. Did I mention my hair is super greasy? Yeah. It’s gross.
Dear Mothers who work full time at the Office. This one hurts to say. I’m sorry for wondering what kind of mother leaves her child every day. I’m SO, SO sorry. I know what kind of mother leaves her child every day – the kind of mother who probably sobbed all the way to work her first day back after maternity leave. The kind of mother who’s struggling to focus during that meeting, because she’s wondering if the person who is caring for her child while she can’t is giving her most perfect creation the attention it deserves. The kind of mother who is setting an amazing example for her children, and maybe even likes the fact that she’s setting that example and not staying home (which is also totally fine and completely admirable). The kind of mother who works her ass off all day long, only to come home to more “work” (at least the 2nd job involves snuggling, so that’s a plus. It also involves poop in weird places. Not a plus.). I see how hard my hubby struggles with the 1 hour of time he gets each night with her. I can’t even imagine. Which leads me to my next apology.
Dear Mothers who quit corporate America to be a stay at home mom. I spent most of my life, and even pregnancy thinking it would be virtually impossible for me to get through maternity leave without wanting to head back to work sooner, let alone cut my hours to (gasp) be a stay at home mom. Another instance where I was a total effing idiot. I’m so sorry. I was lucky enough to work from home full time for my sweet baby girls first 8 months. And, even luckier to cut my hours to part time by the time she turned one. I get it now. I get why, when you met that perfect little person for the first time, nothing else in the world mattered, other than nurturing her, and being her mom. And, I also get why you want to hide in your closet alone and sob sometimes. I get that too.
Dear Stay at Home Moms. I’m incredibly sorry I ever, for even one millisecond, thought your job was easy. I know now, just how difficult it is to be at home, all day, every day, with a little person who relies on you and only you for absolutely everything. I know now, why your house isn’t spotless, why your hair is almost always in a ponytail, and why your uniform consists of stretchpants and a sweatshirt. Being a stay at home mom is more demanding and draining then any corporate job I ever worked (no offense, mom’s in apology #3 – I worked hard in corporate amercia too). It’s impossibly difficult, yet infinitely rewarding. And when I say reward, I mean greasy hair and baby fat (on me, not the kid)…and snuggles. Lots and lots of snuggles.
Dear Moms that have time to poop in private. Please tell me your secrets. I would pay you one million zillion billion dollars to understand how on earth you find time in your day to poop all by yourself without an audience. And, when I say “audience” I mean a 2.5 foot tall individual staring “you know where” like she’s an explorer searching for the new world…I’m sorry I don’t have an apology for you. You’re the worst.
Dear Moms of Toddlers, plural. How are you even doing this? I can barely handle one and to be honest, the one that I have is pretty amazing and easy to care for. But, honestly…how on earth do you function with a little person who has so many questions, and needs, and tantrums, and play dates and doesn’t ever want to just sit and rest until they go to sleep at 7pm? I apologize to you for never even considering you were made of magic. You have to be made of magic to be juggling multiple chidren the way you do.
Oh, these letters.
I could go on like this forever. Writing these letters to women I’ve never met, who I now admire and look up to and aspire to be. I have so many apologies and I’m pretty sure I’ll have more as I continue to Mama my lil’ girl into the teen years. I mean…I don’t even know how I’m going to handle that. Which leads to me to my final apology (for now)
Dear My Mom. Hi. You’re pretty awesome, did you know that? I’m sorry that I was kind of challenging to raise. I’m sorry for all of the risk-taking, the back talking, and the worrying I caused you while I was growing up (and, well let’s be honest – probably after that too). Thank you for always being there for me no matter what. For all of the sacrifices and all of the hugs. For the continued unconditional love for me and now, for your little Grandbaby girl who adores you so immensely. If I’m lucky enough to have my daughter love me to the depths that I love you when she’s my age (well, I might be in better places by then because I waited until I was 100 to have her) my job here will be done. Thank you for that. I love you the mostest.