Sometimes I feel like I’m in my own Mom league. I don’t have any Mom friends who parent exactly like me. I noticed this almost immediately. Within weeks after giving birth to Elle, I was kinda ready to go back to work. I yearned for something other than ALL THINGS BABY and I missed being around adults.
Admitting this made me feel like a crappy mother. All around me, even my working mamas felt pangs of sadness at the thought of leaving their babies for work.
I didn’t feel any that.
So many of my Mom friends were planning big ole’ 1st birthday party celebrations.
I didn’t do that.
Lots were organizing nurseries, enjoying playdates and being the kinds of Moms that I THOUGHT I would be but…never became.
Let’s make a list, shall we?
- I like working out of the house and I’m okay with depending on childcare.
- I do not enjoy cooking for my kids.
- I didn’t really enjoy breastfeeding AND I was okay with weaning.
- Kid TV shows and songs make me cringe.
- I’m okay with not being their only teachers.
- I don’t want to have more kids because my other kids keeping growing up.
- I need breaks from my kids, man. REGULAR breaks.
- I prefer traveling without my kids.
- I don’t ever get baby fever.
- Having kids back to back was not something I ever wanted to do.
More importantly, I don’t weep when I notice my kids growing up.
Part of the reason why I love taking so many pictures and videos of my kids is because I LOVE reminiscing. But doing so doesn’t make me sad.
Is it bittersweet?
Do I yearn to return to newborn life or do I want MORE kids?
Naw, bruh. Not even a little.
I didn’t always think this way. I used to get a little sad as my kids grew up. I decided to change my mindset because I didn’t want to spend their birthdays feeling sad for what was.
Instead, I’ve decided to be GRATEFUL that they got to see another year.
To be HONORED that I get to experience special moments with them.
To be DETERMINED that I’d capture as much as I could while I could.
To be RELIEVED that I no longer had to deal with breastfeeding, potty training and the confines of toddler life.
To be PROUD that I was able to keep my babies happy, healthy and thriving for another freaking year.
To be AMAZED that these kids didn’t rob me of my sanity…even though I was sure they could.
Yes, I suppose there is room for sadness, but I don’t even want to go down that road. Especially when disappointment, loneliness, expectation, guilt, and sadness are already so prevalent in motherhood.
Nope. SURVIVING another year is a celebration. So I won’t cry. I’ll take a ton of pictures, I’ll write letters to my kids that they can see when they’re older and I’ll treat myself to something nice for helping bring my babies around the sun yet again.
I will also thank God for the ability to have been able to conceive and raise my children despite the times that we live in. I don’t take any of this lightly.
My youngest just turned 3 and I’m so excited for him. I’m not sad. Like I do every year, I revisited his birth story and celebrated him AND myself.
Because when you think about it, technically it’s my BIRTH day.
All he did was get born.
I’m okay with the kind of Mom that I am. And I think my kids will be okay, too.