As parents we are usually thinking about the phases and growth our children are going through without much thought about our own life stages. For our kids, we expect the standard cycle of newborn, toddler, preschooler, child, pre teen, teen, young adult and hopefully, eventually mature adult. But adults go through stages (and stages within stages) too although they may not be as clearly outlined. Lately I've been thinking a lot about how my mothering shifted and changed over time. (Now I only have ten years under my belt, so older moms bear with me and please feel free to add any valuable insight!)
My experience is slightly different from most I would say because I started out bearing the name "mom" before I turned 20. So I was immature and knew pretty much nothing about putting someone else's needs before my own. I can remember how jolting this was at first and how hard I fought to hold on to my independence. I did not want to give up the life I had before I became a mother. I still wanted to go out with friends every night, go to parties and clubs, and dress like I had no business dressing, mama or not. After I realized that this old life just wasn't meshing well with my new role I calmed down a bit. After getting married and committing to be at home full time I entered the phase I like to call "The OCD Phase."
Entering this phase was not intentional in the least, like I said at this point I knew zero about being a mother or that I would even go through phases. However, something unexpected happened to me that first year with my lovely baby girl. I didn't realize it at the time but we had become woven together like the threads of a piece of fabric even though we were not physically joined anymore. Once I opened my eyes to it, I began seeing bits of my Creator sprinkled all over this new creation like fairy dust. I was so enamored with her, I became obsessed with her and the part I played in her life. Everything was about her. My identity melted into hers and hers into mine. This blurry line between the two of us meant that some of my own insecurities fell onto her. She had to look perfect all the time, she was so beautiful and amazing to me I wanted to make sure no one else missed out because she had food on her face or her clothes didn't match. That meant I needed to be the one to do everything for her. My husband, my mother, other meaningful helpers that I should of taken advantage of were often met with, "I can do it." Even if I was exhausted, "I can do it."
This drive for perfection was partly the culprit for continuing to stay home and also choosing homeschooling for her early years. This meant a ton of one on one time for me and my daughter. I know this played a part in developing her into the strong and confident little woman she is today. However, on the down side I also unintentionally transferred some of my well intended yet perfectionist tendencies to her and on some days her strong will can resemble defiance. (Shocking, I know, a pre teen showing defiance?!) But that's ok. She is human and I know that now.
Somewhere along the way I began to grow tired and ask myself "why?" As she grew, I became more secure in my motherhood and loosened up a bit. About that time, the birth of my second child came came crashing into reality. With this tiny man child came a whirlwind blowing across life that I'm not sure I have ever quite recovered from. He stole my heart as it stretched wide enough to accommodate him. You never know the love you can pour out until it is required of you. Even with the stretching, this little superhero seemed to take off running from the womb. He was and is constant motion. His energy never wanes and I am constantly playing catch up. This tiny man has the stamina and determination of a soldier, only he takes orders from no one. Once he mastered the run I was chasing him everywhere, through the grocery store, across the entire acreage of the zoo, and even out the front door into the street a couple of times.
With this whirlwind known as typical boy stuff, I entered the phase of burnout. I could never parent him the same way I did his older sis because I just couldn't catch him. People gawk when I don't make him sit at the table or put him on a leash (which I tried, I honestly did, and it lasted all of two seconds). There was and is no pushing perfectionism or unrealistic expectations onto my son even if I had the energy to. Potty training and learning shapes and working through his temper would all just come in their own time not because that is the healthy approach but because there was really no other way. So admittedly, I kind of just gave up. Which had it's pros and cons. Pro: I lowered my standards and became more flexible. Not in pushover way but in a way that has made me better at choosing my battles. Con: I became critical or doubtful of advice or parenting articles/books and generally held disdain for those who were still in the stage I was in previously. Not to mention the fact, that it seemed there was no advice or technique that would work for whatever his current dilemma was. "Oh, explaining all the good this nasty cherry medicine will do for your child convinced her to take it? Mine spits it back in my face even if it's in a vat of chocolate. What's that? you potty trained in three days? Mine took two years and I still have to beg him to go." I had to figure out discipline and development and ways to relate to him pretty much from scratch (and still am). This meant a lot of trial and error, leaning more toward error on most days. Too much of this trying and failing and negativity combined with the burnout of chasing a toddler tornado day in and day out left me feeling kind of hopeless and not really enjoying motherhood as I did before (if you couldn't tell from my above cynicism).
While this was a quite a heavy season for me, it was also a slow springboard into finding my way back to "me." This is where I am at currently, and when I say slow, I mean slow. So slow I really cant even pinpoint when it first started happening or why. I think it came in bits and pieces. At first the paints and canvases started to come out again. Splashing and swiping and creating across a perfect blank white was so therapeutic to me. Then came the writing, instead of just pulling out the journal when I needed to vent, I wrote to express all kinds of things. Descriptions and drawings and ideas and dreams filled the lines of my journals again. I started paying attention to myself and
allowing feelings I had always pushed away because "good mothers don't feel like that." I let go of my identity in reference to someone else and started to re-form my own. I also started to make room for relationships. Not just play dates where we only talked about kids, but real live conversations with other women who were going through the same thing I was. I also experimented with being a student to people who were in a totally different stages of life. I let myself have friends and mentors and stopped saying, "I'm too busy." I got really interested in the concept of community and how that grows us as individuals. I let myself become passionate about something outside my sphere of comfort and it led me to fly around the world to Bangkok, Thailand to work with girls caught up in the sex trade, an experience I would trade for nothing and can only wish to match in the future. (Here's an awesome blog that tells all about it, if this piques your interest!) All of these things gradually built into me, not just as a mom but as a woman. I'm still reaching out and climbing that mountain of self discovery daily.
For those of you thinking, well all that sounds wonderful but it also sounds a wee bit on the selfish side. After all, isn't motherhood a ministry of sacrifice and service? I would say that's only part of the equation. I actually see so much more of that selfish teenager rearing her ugly head when I don't make room for myself in motherhood. Something it took me way too long to figure out is that taking good care of others requires a stable person, aka someone who takes care of themselves too. Some one who has sensible boundaries and at least a semi firm grasp of their own identity. If I want that for my kids, I have to first be that myself. Leaning into my own individuality has also given me permission to see and appreciate my children's individuality. I can like them, not just love them, and anticipate what the future of motherhood holds for me instead of dreading it.
I still have days where I let my inner critic peek through or I meander down a path of feeling discouraged because nothing seems to work. I have however come to the realization that maybe parenting isn't about finding things that "work." After all my children aren't robots that I can program to be a certain way. Just because I plug in certain techniques doesn't mean they will respond the way I hope they will. They are humans with free will and unique personalities that have shown through from the moment their newborn screams pierced the air in the delivery room. Even though they are still learning and developing, they are their own little people and the part I play in that is transforming with each phase that they pass through. And it's perfectly o.k. to figure things out as we go. And to have fun and make messes and do things the "wrong" way. It's o.k. to say, "I'm sorry, lets try again." And it is more than o.k. to let go of the fear that drives us into gloomy or defeated places as moms and to take steps away from it. Your husband, your kids, and generations to come will thank you for it. Here is an article that I often refer back to because it resonated with me deeply during a time when I was feeling frustrated that I couldn't run off and be an artist or a missionary. It helped me articulate those frustrations and begin learning how to balance motherhood with passion, a dance I am still learning the steps to.
I hope this stirs some thoughts about your own journey through motherhood, it always helps to recognize where we have been and where we are, holding onto to the hope that we are always changing and evolving as caretakers to our precious little ones, but more importantly as women. I love to know that I'm not just raising my kids but that they are also raising and maturing me. I know there are lots of other phases, probably even some in my own life that I haven't realized. From empty nesters, to mothers suffering loss or parents of children's with special needs, to raising multiples or families with six or seven kids, our experiences are all so different and unique yet tied together with the common thread of love. We all want to be the very best we can for our kids. We need grace and understanding and encouragement for each other in this sisterhood of being called "mom." Because we are all in different places at different times with different children. Compare, contrast, get advice, yes, but most of all fuse the mothers around you with courage and strength and assure them that they are doing just fine, whatever phase they might be going through.
Thanks for reading today,
Jenna
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