I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this post in my head and never writing it, so I’m just going to start in the middle and work my way backwards. Or forwards. Or sidewayswards. Or…
There’s this thing happens to us Women of a Certain Independence when we talk about kids (before we have them, of course). We insist that we won’t be That Mom that “loses herself” in her kid because OMG MY ME TIME IS SO IMPORTANT. And we insist that we’ll keep up with all of our pre-baby hobbies because I’M A PERSON TOO AND THAT BABY WON’T BE MY WHOLE LIFE. I wanted to be more than “just” a mom. And it goes on and on. We’re mentally prepared for having a baby. And for maintaining our perfectly tailored sense of self through it all.
And then the baby shows up. You forget when you last showered or whether you brushed your teeth or even where your comb lives. You’re pretty sure you had hobbies once but you’re too exhausted to even try to remember what they are. And before you have a kid you think that it doesn’t make any fucking sense that a human person could forget to brush her teeth for an entire week but then you’re That Mom. It all changes so fast and you’ll slowly figure out how to balance your own needs with those of your kid(s) but it takes a while.
The thing about this transition that’s been weird for a lot of my friends isn’t that we “lost ourselves” in our kids, but that our lives revolve around our kids and WE DON’T FEEL ONE FUCKING IOTA OF BAD ABOUT IT, but we also feel like we should feel bad about it. So many of us *found* ourselves in motherhood but we know that’s not the cool thing to do. Because we should want to be Independent Women that run the show and don’t let a kid change who we are but HI THAT’S DUMB BECAUSE A KID WILL OBVIOUSLY CHANGE YOU AT LEAST A LITTLE. Part of why I’ve struggled to write since I’ve had my kid is because I’ve always written about myself and what makes me smile or laugh or cry or think. And when I had a kid, suddenly she is what makes me smile or laugh or cry or think most of the time. Almost every time I sat down to write in the last two years, I started writing about HER.
This would send me off down the rabbit hole of confusing emotions in which I didn’t want to be That Mom that suddenly only posted about or talked about her kid. I didn’t want to be That Mom that couldn’t maintain a clearer sense of self. I wanted to keep writing about stuff that more people found appealing and not just people that were caregivers of tiny dictators.
Basically, I stopped thinking about any of the reasons I wanted to write or why I love to write and started thinking about what Other People might think. This might surprise a lot of people close to me because I’m generally quite good at giving zero fucks about the opinions of Other People, but with this huge transition in my life came some stupid imaginary judgement, too. This is particularly dumb when you consider that I don’t blog for a living so I had like… no reason to care what Other People might think. But a change in your sense of self will fuck with you like that.
So here I am, saying: eff that noise. I’m going to write about being a mom. Because I am a mom. I am a mom: the noun, and I mother: the verb, and I am Mom: the pronoun, and all of that Mommery takes up a metric shit ton of my time, energy, and sanity. And I refuse to feel bad about it because it just so happens that I feel really good about it. No, I don’t have some epic self-identity right now that doesn’t involve my kid and that’s fine. It’s more than fine.
Sure, sometimes I’ll write about other stuff too, but I’ll usually be writing about my life and experiences – and that’s mostly Mom Stuff right now. And, full disclosure: I’m like… the best at being average. You get a front row seat to the Me Show. Weird. Average. Warts and all.
And by warts I mean swear words and shitty pictures and jacked up craft projects. This is not your BFF’s beautiful, envy-inducing, Pinterest-friendly mommy blog.
My identity now is completely different than when I created my older blogs (and imaginary ones I didn’t ever actually bring to fruition). My life DOES revolve around my kid and I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is only a season in my daughter’s life and I want to be a part of it as much as I can be.
So yea, I guess I’m “just” a mom now. And it’s awesome.