Motherhood in this moment.
Hello my darling daughters,
You are both tucked in your beds sleeping peacefully.
Brynn, you have been crashed since 7:15 PM on account of the illness you are currently faking. I shouldn't say that. I don't know with surety that you are faking. I only suspect as much. If you are not faking, then my apologies and the extra sleep will certainly help you feel better. If you are faking then consider this payback for all the drama.
Grace, you are only a few minutes into your dreamland journey. You got to stay up on account of your advanced age (10 years, 3 months), your late karate practice and your copious amounts of homework. You are still a good sleeper, a decade into life. I turned out the light, tucked you in tight, gave you a big kiss and a snuggle and I'm pretty sure you were asleep before I was out of the room. I covet that talent. That ability to lay the cares of the world away in a nanosecond and let your body sleep. I really, really want that.
It's been a while since I wrote down my feelings for you, but I've been thinking about it a lot. When I read this in 20 or 30 years I want to remember what motherhood was like in this moment. I want you to remember too, because you'll be where I am and you will need the occasional reality check.
I'm so loving you both right now. You are funny and happy. You are both good little souls whom I am proud to send out into the world to represent me. We took you to a "grown up" meeting the other day and you both sat quietly, entertaining yourselves for the entire hour. We didn't even bribe you. I didn't even think about bribing you, truthfully, which tells me that you are becoming people I can count on. More and more I know that if I ask you to do something, you listen and generally do it.
I do catch the occasional exasperated stomp or dramatic eye roll. In these moments, when I'm shocked by how stupid you think I am, I remind myself you are only children. But most of the time you exceed every expectation I have for you. I'm truly proud of the lovely ladies you are growing up to be.
Mothering is work. Hard work. Case in point, the other day I heard myself threaten to set the hermit crabs free into the wild if no one but me gave them food and water. Needless to say, I must have made good on enough threats in your lifetimes given that I haven't had to feed or water those crabs one day since.
I frequently find myself frustrated with the burden of keeping up with a house and a job and kids. I find myself overwhelmed with tasks that I know others are capable of helping me do. I'm trying to make a conscious effort to be kind instead of stressed. To be focused on you instead of a to do list. Instead of getting all flustered and upset, I'm trying to be better about engaging you in helping me. I'm amazed at the great results I get when I invite you to help, instead of demanding it. The whole house feels warmer and softer. You are kinder to each other. I feel greater love for you.
Funny how you are better able to rise to an occasion when you are not being dominated by a demanding shrew. I don't know why this is profound insight to me. I have always known that a mother sets the tone in a home, but I'm learning a lot as I'm actually seeing it play out before my eyes.
I feel my capacity to love you expanding. I'm enjoying taking care of you, helping you with school and projects, encouraging you to think and read and wonder, helping you discover talents, and deal with disappointment.
I've been trying hard to listen. To look in your sweet little faces and hear what you are saying to me. I find I have to be actively engaged in a moment or I tend to be dismissive. I literally have to make myself stop sometimes, to sit with you and really hear what you are telling me.
I feel so much hope and excitement for the future. I don't dread you growing up and maybe that's due, in part, to the way I'm trying to savor the present.
If I had to sum up this moment of motherhood in a single word, I'd say surprise.
I'm surprised by how much work it is.
I'm surprised at how much I'm enjoying these moments and I'm surprised that I have to choose to enjoy them. I have definitely felt in years past like I was just trying to survive my life. I wasn't living it. It wasn't fun. It was survival mode. How can I say this nicely? Survival mode sucks. I'm sure we will be in survival mode again some day. It's part of life - the enduring--but it is possible to come out of those moments and choose happiness.
I'm surprised by what you are capable of and frequently find myself delighted with the compassion, confidence and grace I see developing in you.
It's not easy and it's not perfect, but we have a loving, fun family life.
I love you, my babies, more than I knew was possible.
So grow up and have great kids (and they will be great). Be the best mothers you can be and when you occasionally need to lock yourself in the bathroom and pretend you have forgotten how to speak English just go with it...
...but come out eventually or you really will miss all the fun.
All my love,
Mom
You are both tucked in your beds sleeping peacefully.
Brynn, you have been crashed since 7:15 PM on account of the illness you are currently faking. I shouldn't say that. I don't know with surety that you are faking. I only suspect as much. If you are not faking, then my apologies and the extra sleep will certainly help you feel better. If you are faking then consider this payback for all the drama.
Grace, you are only a few minutes into your dreamland journey. You got to stay up on account of your advanced age (10 years, 3 months), your late karate practice and your copious amounts of homework. You are still a good sleeper, a decade into life. I turned out the light, tucked you in tight, gave you a big kiss and a snuggle and I'm pretty sure you were asleep before I was out of the room. I covet that talent. That ability to lay the cares of the world away in a nanosecond and let your body sleep. I really, really want that.
It's been a while since I wrote down my feelings for you, but I've been thinking about it a lot. When I read this in 20 or 30 years I want to remember what motherhood was like in this moment. I want you to remember too, because you'll be where I am and you will need the occasional reality check.
I'm so loving you both right now. You are funny and happy. You are both good little souls whom I am proud to send out into the world to represent me. We took you to a "grown up" meeting the other day and you both sat quietly, entertaining yourselves for the entire hour. We didn't even bribe you. I didn't even think about bribing you, truthfully, which tells me that you are becoming people I can count on. More and more I know that if I ask you to do something, you listen and generally do it.
I do catch the occasional exasperated stomp or dramatic eye roll. In these moments, when I'm shocked by how stupid you think I am, I remind myself you are only children. But most of the time you exceed every expectation I have for you. I'm truly proud of the lovely ladies you are growing up to be.
Mothering is work. Hard work. Case in point, the other day I heard myself threaten to set the hermit crabs free into the wild if no one but me gave them food and water. Needless to say, I must have made good on enough threats in your lifetimes given that I haven't had to feed or water those crabs one day since.
I frequently find myself frustrated with the burden of keeping up with a house and a job and kids. I find myself overwhelmed with tasks that I know others are capable of helping me do. I'm trying to make a conscious effort to be kind instead of stressed. To be focused on you instead of a to do list. Instead of getting all flustered and upset, I'm trying to be better about engaging you in helping me. I'm amazed at the great results I get when I invite you to help, instead of demanding it. The whole house feels warmer and softer. You are kinder to each other. I feel greater love for you.
Funny how you are better able to rise to an occasion when you are not being dominated by a demanding shrew. I don't know why this is profound insight to me. I have always known that a mother sets the tone in a home, but I'm learning a lot as I'm actually seeing it play out before my eyes.
I feel my capacity to love you expanding. I'm enjoying taking care of you, helping you with school and projects, encouraging you to think and read and wonder, helping you discover talents, and deal with disappointment.
I've been trying hard to listen. To look in your sweet little faces and hear what you are saying to me. I find I have to be actively engaged in a moment or I tend to be dismissive. I literally have to make myself stop sometimes, to sit with you and really hear what you are telling me.
I feel so much hope and excitement for the future. I don't dread you growing up and maybe that's due, in part, to the way I'm trying to savor the present.
If I had to sum up this moment of motherhood in a single word, I'd say surprise.
I'm surprised by how much work it is.
I'm surprised at how much I'm enjoying these moments and I'm surprised that I have to choose to enjoy them. I have definitely felt in years past like I was just trying to survive my life. I wasn't living it. It wasn't fun. It was survival mode. How can I say this nicely? Survival mode sucks. I'm sure we will be in survival mode again some day. It's part of life - the enduring--but it is possible to come out of those moments and choose happiness.
I'm surprised by what you are capable of and frequently find myself delighted with the compassion, confidence and grace I see developing in you.
It's not easy and it's not perfect, but we have a loving, fun family life.
I love you, my babies, more than I knew was possible.
So grow up and have great kids (and they will be great). Be the best mothers you can be and when you occasionally need to lock yourself in the bathroom and pretend you have forgotten how to speak English just go with it...
...but come out eventually or you really will miss all the fun.
All my love,
Mom
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