Tuesday was my 100th post. I’m celebrating by not actually writing anything new this week, and instead, re-publishing some posts that I wrote for a friend last Winter. This is the second of three.
Recently another twin mom I know mentioned that she saw me out shopping and tried to wave, but realized that I didn’t recognize her. She kindly suggested that she was out of context since we really only see each other at playgroups, and we didn’t have our kids with us. Then she laughingly said, “and I generally feel out of context when I’m not with my kids.” She is wonderful and I hate to use her comment as a negative example; but the truth is I never want to feel out of context without my children.
It would be so easy to just drift into the ongoing whirlpool of need that they generate. I could lose myself in that quite happily given the rewarding existence of being loved more than anyone by children who are for me, the bright, shining center of the universe. But then I remind myself that Eleanor won’t feel out of context without me when she starts high school, and then college, and then goes to Cancún for Spring Break, and then gets a beach house for the summer with her friends. I can’t lose myself in my children now, because I’ll be needing that identity back when they leave me to find theirs.
I’ve increasingly found that a major element of my motherhood experience is being both a mom and just me at the same time. “Just me,” being the side of me that watches me deal with melt downs and tantrums and dance with the Wiggles and walk out of the house wearing unflattering clothes because I’m in a hurry and I’m just going to the Safeway and I don’t have time to indulge in a wardrobe crisis. It’s the objective side of me that does the laughing and the storytelling and remembers to notice every detail of George’s 14-month-old smile because his face will have changed again by the time he turns two. The mother in me focuses on what needs to be done and really lives in the moment. I need her to take care of my children, but I also need that observer in me to appreciate them. And if I need to have “just me” to laugh about their daily antics now, I’m going to need that same part of myself to help let them go when they inevitably start to grow up.
I am so with you. My socks may not match but Im involved
I coouldn’t agree more – it’s tempting sometimes to just totally immerse yourself in their lives but ultimately it’s better for everyone if moms force themselves to maintain an identity.
Beautifully said! I love this post.
I called my blog the extraordinary ordinary because of the fact that every mom really is extraordinary, carrying her own traits and stories of a life lived before kids that will carry on when they leave home.
So nice to “meet” you!
Oh and I LOVE the “whirlpool of needs” line. Perfect.
A had a lightbulb moment not that long ago that only when I was with my daughter did I feel like I had a reason to be social. I am divorced with no family here and it so freaked me out that I have made it my goal to get out there when I am NOT with her and do fun things. I’m not a sahm, and I haven’t given up much to be a mom but I did start to feel that when I was alone I was alone and she was becoming my excuse to “live” on the weekends. It’s no longer the case, thank goodness.
I totally agree. If you do the parenting thing right, you’ll be obsolete soon enough. If you don’t have your own identity, what happens next?
I agree and you put this beautifully.
This is oh so true. I remember when my kids were little and we were together all the time. When I snuck out to the store by myself, I felt like I was missing my left arm or something. This pressure to be everything to me was too much to put on the kids. One bad day could send me into a tailspin– identity crisis. Your blog is terrific!
Kate I loved reading this the first time, and still enjoyed it again today. Keep on blogging – and happy 101st post!
I think that this is what I struggle with the most as a mom. I feel lots of guilt because I was conscious from the very beginning about carving time out for myself, and I did. It’s a hard balance to keep, I think. How much “me” time is enough, how much is too much?
Perfect. It’s a constant struggle for me, finding that line between meeting their needs and meeting mine, keeping a piece of my day, myself, my life for me. You said it so well.
It is hard to do. I still try to be me, to do the things that I enjoy instead of being mommy all the time.
Our goal is to help them stand on their own two feet and be their own person, so why can’t we.