A Woman's Never-ending Battle

So, I wrote this a year ago, and I'm still not sure I have the answers….I guess it's a never-ending battle. 

May 14th, 2013

I like this font.  I never use it, but it reminds me of the “good ole days” for some reason.  Maybe that’s because it’s called typewriter and I equate typewriters with the days when women were stay-at-home moms and if they ventured out of the house, it was to be some man’s secretary.

I know what I am about to say is very controversial, but it’s where I am in my life right now.  I used to think women could do it all – be a great wife, mother, friend, family member, and have a high-powered career too.  That was before I became a mom of two young girls.  That was BEFORE I stopped lying to myself.  In reality, Ann Taylor suits DO NOT contain super-power threads that enable working moms to do everything well, even though Kate Hudson makes it look that way.

Now I think “having it all” robs you of your sanity.  Women today are TIRED.  We are crying out for purpose and, well, sleep. 

As a full-time, working mom, I feel like my life is defined by one word – hurry.  Hurry and get everyone out of the door on time.  Hurry to make it past the railroad tracks before that stupid train comes through (seriously – there isn’t a better time for a train then 7:16 am when the world is scrambling to get to work?  I mean, have some courtesy!).  Hurry to go to the bathroom before the bell rings (I’m a teacher).  Hurry to get dinner on the table before soccer.  Hurry to get in the tub after soccer because 9:00 bedtime  = bitchy kid in the morning.  Then Whew – lie down and do it all over again.

Where is the time to linger?  To reflect?  To grow?  As a woman, we’d like to think that the bulk of the child-rearing doesn’t fall on us – that’s it’s a team effort, but come on.  Have you ever seen this 50/50 crap done successfully?  Could it be that by trying to have it all, we really don’t have anything? Okay – that’s a harsh statement, but what I mean is, we are so divided that maybe the sum of the parts doesn’t equal a full, content life.

I think we are caught between decades, trying to figure out if a “balance” exists.  We don’t want to kick it all the way back to the 40s and 50s where in order to be heard, we had to speak through our men, yet this year-2000s pace is tiring us out. 

So, what’s the answer?  I have no frickin’ idea.  Don’t have kids if you want a career?  Don’t have a career if you want kids?  Both seem so….so….anti-something. 

Then, to top it all off, our greatest calling is to be disciples.  That’s our real purpose on Earth.  Because this life as we know it is here today, gone tomorrow.  Maybe we need to have an eternal perspective first, then fit in the earthly stuff.  What does that look like?  I’m not sure.  Probably different for everyone.  That’s the sucky part.  There is no clear pattern that women “should” follow.  Follow our guts, I guess, and live life so that in ten years, we won’t look back on this decade of our lives wishing we could go back and change our priorities. 

Sidekicks

Excuse me while I brush the dust off of this blog. 

There - that's better.

Lately, I've been experiencing one of the most powerful phenomenons of my life: sisterhood.  I don't have a sister, so I never really knew what it was like to have another girl your age-ish in the house, experiencing life alongside you.  I had my theories - none of which even come close to what I see between my two girls.

No one can make Lainey light up as much as Annessa.  Lanes can just hear her voice and her arms start waving, her smile gets bigger and she scans the room, looking for her sister.

And, likewise, no one can make Annessa light up quite like Elaina.

They play. Annessa, literally dragging Elaina around the house and putting her in a pretend tiger cage, a bus (overturned stool), or pretending she is the babysitter and Elaina is the kid (that one is my personal favorite).

They read.  Annessa sitting on a chair, holding the book like her teacher and storytelling; Lainey, captivated.

They laugh.  Oh boy do they get each other laughing - in the car, in the tub, at the dinner table…..

All the while Rich and I look on and watch this magical bond being built right before our eyes.

(Now, this isn't to say there are no side effects to having a sister - one major side effect being she rifles through stuff you don't want her touching.  And, as they grow, I'm sure there will be lots of door slamming and huffy moments.  But this post is about the beauty of sisterhood, so we will leave the subtle realities for another day.)   

One of the best parts of this relationship is seeing a whole new side to Annessa.  She has taken on the role of a sister with flying colors - she is Lainey's playmate, protector, and friend.  No longer is she moving through life on her own, now she has a sister.  A sidekick.

As a mom, nothing makes me more happy than seeing my girls become each other's sidekicks.

Stationery Card

Stationery Card

View the entire collection of cards.

Elaina's 9 Month List

Dear Elaina,

There are some things about you that I don't want to forget:

*Whenever you are happy, you shimmy
*Your face lights up when your sister comes in the room.  In fact, you can be mid-cry, and if Annessa comes by you, you stop and smile.
*You are the most content little baby ever - you hardly cry or fuss
*You have the biggest, brightest smile
*You really have no interest in crawling - you are just happy to play with anything in your reach -- even if it's a piece of fuzz!
*You still sing yourself to sleep.....
*You love to snuggle with me at the end of the day
*You make me want to quit my job and stay home with you -- now that's an accomplishment!
*Daddy calls you "Bobble-head" because of your perfectly round face and the way you shimmy.
*You make Daddy want to have another baby -- you are THAT good!
*At nine months, you bring so much joy to our house.

You Are One Amazing Baby

Dear Elaina,

So, I just have to say that you are nothing short of amazing.  You are just the most chill baby I have ever seen (and you happen to be mine - how lucky am I?!).  Wherever we go, people comment on three things:

1) "Look at that smile!"

2) "She is so content/happy/mellow...(insert your own synonym for good here)." and

3) "Look at those cheeks!"

Last month, we took you to NYC, and you never cried - not once!  You were just so happy and observant.  You talk (da, da, da, da, - of course dad thinks you are talking about him) and (na, na, na, na, na - Naturally, Annessa believes this is your way of saying her name.) all the time and you still sing yourself to sleep.

Sleep -- that's one area I am screwing you up on.  With your sister, I was a hard-core sleep trainer.  But with you, we just snuggle and swing and rock and bounce until you fall asleep.  I think it's because Annessa taught me how fast this baby stage goes and I just want to squeeze every last bit out of it that I can.  

Annessa adores you (as do your dad and I).  You two already have a cute relationship.  She dances and sings and reads to you, and you just sit there - enthralled.  When she walks into the room, you just light up.  It is seriously the sweetest thing. She calls you "Lainy" and "Lainy-Bear".  Seeing the two of you together just melts me.  

I love you to the moon and back,

Mama

The Lies We Tell Ourselves

"Go ahead - buy that - you can totally afford it."

"I will train for that half marathon....Just as soon as the weather gets nice."

"I'm a really great cook....When I cook."

"I will finish that scrapbook BEFORE the baby turns one."

And, my personal favorite: "I could NEVER be a stay-at-home-mom.  I just don't know HOW they do it!"

Yep - I'm pretty sure that the last one was a big fat lie I kept repeating over and over until I *mostly* believed it.  If I convinced myself that I was one of those superhuman moms who could do it all - a career, a family, and a social life all without shortchanging anything, then I felt better about leaving my kid(s) with someone else all day.

But now, if I am brutally honest with myself, I know that I was making myself believe a lie.  Because in fact, I COULD be a stay-at-home-mom.  The last three months of my life were the happiest months I've ever had.  I felt more.....connected....to myself and everyone around me and to God.  Each day I drank in the wonders of my kids. I fell in love with them all throughout the day.

For me, going back to work has made me put up a barrier between me and my kids.  Isn't that awful?  It's the only way I can do it right now.  I tell myself things like,  "Millions of moms do this everyday - suck it up.  No crying.  Heart of steel," and all that jazz.

I know that by working, I am making a difference too - my girls will see a woman with a career that she loves.  They will know the importance of education and determination.  They will see me as a person outside the home.

Thank God I love my job.  I love the kids, my school, my co-workers.  I am happy when I am teaching.  I really am.  And thank God for our sitter who is amazing.  But it's when I stop to look at the clock and realize it's nap time and wonder if Elaina is being rocked to sleep right now that my heart hurts.  Or that it's 11:15 and Annessa is getting off the bus telling someone that is not me about her day at school.

Being a mom is hard - I don't care if you're a mom who works outside of the home or a S.A.H.M. - we all have to make choices about how to raise our kids, and sometimes those choices are not as clear-cut as we would like.

Anyway -- it's Sunday night and I have a lunch to pack and papers to grade.  And a beautiful little girl that is stirring quietly about to wake up and another little girl who needs some snuggle time.

Holy Crap

You wouldn't believe this moment if you saw it - I promise.  I know because I felt like it was either a dream or a nightmare - can't decide which one!

Let's start with the nightmare part:  We've all been there -- public place, baby, poop all the way up the back (threatening to touch the hairline if it hadn't been caught in just the nick of time).  Yep- disgusting.

We were in Madison at the Boston store when the explosion began.  I turned to my mom, who was trying on shoes, and said, "Better go - stinky here needs to be changed."  Sensing that this was gonna be good, daughter number one came along to join in the fun.

Somewhere between unpacking my poop-bomb and wondering if I have enough wipes, Annessa says, "Mom, was I ever baptized?  Payton had show-and-tell today, and she told us about her baptism."

Now,  about baptism.  I understand that it's a very sensitive subject for some people.  Rich and I do the whole "Believer's Baptism" where you choose to express your faith and obey God AFTER you have surrendered your life to Him and His will.  (After all, Jesus was baptized as an adult, as was everyone else in the Bible.  But I digress.....) If this is against everything you believe in, that's okay.  I understand.  Just keep reading.  It gets good, I promise.

 This was one of those moments I had imagined having with her in front of a fire or on a picnic or something dreamy like that.  But.  Of course. Reality doesn't work the way our minds picture it.  So.  I took a deep breath (of stinky air) and began to explain this to Annessa.

"Well, I believe in God mom.  Can I be baptized?"

"Hmmm....Do you know what sin is?"

"No."

"Sin is when we do something that we know is wrong, but we do it anyway.  We all sin.  Like everyday." I said, wondering if that was an acceptable answer for a five-year-old.  Suddenly all of the "churchy" people flashed before my eyes, and I hoped this explanation was biblically correct.

Now, let's not forget the poop.  Oh, the poop.  And while your at it, add some crying to that mental movie you have going on.

"So, in order to be baptized," I continued above the desperate cries from daughter number two to get me to stop holding her legs in air and wiping her back with a cold wipe.  I mean come on, doesn't everyone like the warm feeling of poop on their backs?  "You have to believe that God sent his son, Jesus to die on the cross for our sins. That means we can go to Heaven someday and be with God because Jesus helped us."

 Holy crap.  Literally.  I was preaching the gospel in the midst of what was quite possibly the worst crap Elaina had ever taken.

"I believe that mom.  I do."

Music to my ears.  My child confessing her faith to me... How blessed am I?  Seriously?

Now, is this something she really believes or does she "just" want to go through the pomp and circumstance of a baptism?  I kinda think it's a little of both.  Either way, it's moments like these that, as a mom, I know I was put on earth to have.  What could be better than sharing Jesus' love with your child?

 Expect maybe if it didn't involve a boat load of crap.