Mama Rut

I want an uninterrupted hot shower. I want a non-reheated hot cup of coffee. I want a hot bod.

I am in a “Mama Rut”. So much of my current identity is associated with being the mother to my two boys. Although I love them more than anyone on this planet, am honored to call them “mine”, and thank the good Lord each and every day for them, I also mourn the loss of the other parts of me. The parts that were much more evident during the years 1981-2008 B.C.: “Before Children”. The parts that I worked so hard to identify, create, build, and develop over the years. The parts that attracted the interest and courtship of my husband. The parts that made me, well, me. The parts that will remain present, yet inactive after years of motherhood, once my children eventually and inevitably leave the comforts of my home and daily care.

If I were to have described myself in terms of “B.C.” it would have been something like this:

Energetic, creative, passionate, outgoing, relatively self-confident, and educated young woman, seeks opportunities to network with others, make the world a better place, and establish a reputable name for herself and career. Financially independent and not afraid to spend hard-earned dollars on funny T-shirts and stylish shoes. Diligent pupil at the theoretical “School of Wit” possessing a double-major in sarcasm and self-deprecating humor. Has plenty of free time to nurture her interests of creative writing, people watching, exercise, attending concerts & comedic performances, and drinking. Heavily. Focused and goal-oriented, she is the gal to call to organize projects large and small and offer original, innovative ideas to take your school lesson plans, charity events, staff functions, and business ventures to the next level. Always willing to try something new, she will take time to enroll in new classes and put her life on the line in order to feel the rush of adrenaline through tackling dangerous adventures usually requiring a “waiver of liability” in advance. Hates cooking, but loves eating.

Then my beloved first child entered this world. From the moment that I announced my pregnancy with him I no longer felt like “Laurel”, but became “The Belly”. Everyone—friends, family, strangers in the checkout line at Target and their grandmothers included-- seemed to direct all their conversations and inquiries towards the ever-inflating basketball emerging from my abdomen. When are you due? Do you know what you’re having? What’s its name? Any weird cravings? (Answers: Late-February. Boy. No. Only to sock you when you touch my stomach unsolicited.)

The frustration of losing my sense of self subsided for a bit once Caiden was placed in my arms (in early March. Apparently “Club Uterus” was a happening place). Proudly toting my beautiful blue-eyed baby everywhere was an honor. All I seemed to be able to talk about was his sleeping patterns and number of bowel movements. It didn’t matter who you were. I often gravitated towards sharing all of this information with other mothers, but now the Target customers waiting in the checkout line were getting a bit of payback. In this era of new parenthood, with that baby physically in my hands, I felt like I was part of elite alliance: “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Burp Cloths”.

Within a few months postpartum, however, the isolation and loneliness and urge to be that vivacious woman that I “used to be” set back in. Yes, Caiden was simply adorable and extremely loved. But he certainly wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Now a full-time stay-at-home mom, I missed spending quality moments with my husband—watching TV, making dinner together, going for a walk with the dog-- without being interrupted by a feeding, diaper change, or downright fussy infant. I missed the camaraderie of my friends—most of whom weren’t even married at the time, nonetheless parents. I missed the predictable routine of my mornings (wake up, make coffee, take shower, dress up in something cute & flattering, put on makeup, and get out of the house). I missed utilizing my education, experience, and imagination to create fun lesson plans for my students. I missed my commute where I could listen to the Top 40 while sipping my coffee—still hot. I missed having somewhere to be. I even missed having deadlines to meet. I missed going to my little work mailbox every Thursday to see my pay stub—measly, but all mine. I missed going to the local dive every Friday with my amazing coworkers to recap the highs & lows of our week and share a pitcher. Or two. Or three.

When I became confident enough to leave the home with my baby and his arsenal of necessities in tow (car seat, stroller, blanket, burp cloth, bib, pacifier, rattle, bottle, formula, diapers, wipes, change of clothes…), I joined a local support group organized by the hospital geared towards new moms. Here I discovered other women who felt the same as I, and in turn, a few new, precious, dear friends. They only met once a week for 1-hour, though. I needed more. I yearned for more. Thank GOD for play dates… [To date: I still believe that they are more for the benefit of the caretakers than that of the children.]

Flash forward a few years and Caiden and I are now into a groove. He is old enough to enjoy and participate in things like library story times and Kindermusik classes. He has his little friends and we can actually get out of the house with a sippy cup, granola bar, travel pack of wipes, and a single diaper. Trips to the grocery store are fodder for learning & adventure and I get into coming up with creative ways to teach him stuff (Find me a fruit in this row that is red. How many apples should we get? Let’s count them as we put them in the bag.). Every now and then I even get the urge to treat myself to wearing some mascara and a cute pair of heels. We have a schedule at home so I can do things like read during nap time, watch the nightly newscast with my husband, or go to the gym on a regular basis. Life is good. I got this now. Sure, I’m “Caiden’s Mom”. But we are also in a good enough routine in which I can have those snippets of time in which I am, simply, “Laurel”.

Then. Comes. Baby. Number. Two.

In addition to being “Caiden’s Mom” with guest appearances from”Laurel”, I have now reverted back to being “The Belly.”

Nine months plus later (I added the “plus” because Ryan also felt that “Club Uterus” was a happening place), my second child is lovingly embraced in my arms and we are in that euphoric stage of “Hey Lady at Target, look at my baby! Isn’t he amazing! Let me tell you all about his cute quirks and my breastfeeding troubles!”

…And we are now currently in the throes of that postpartum period in which the isolation and loneliness and urge to be that vivacious woman that I “used to be” is setting back in. Some days, aside from those coveted ones in which I can meet up with a friend or have a date night with the hubby, I feel that my only release from the identity of being “Caiden and Ryan’s mom” is through the ability to write it all out in these entries.

It goes without saying that being a mom, nonetheless a stay-at-home mom, is an amazing and blessed opportunity. I am extremely lucky and I know that. I thank God each and every day for my husband & children and all that they have added to my life. But I am also fully aware that there is a side of me that is being muted, put on temporary hold, for the next 18 years or so, that is just dying to get out.

Is it possible to suffer from a “Mid-Momma Crisis”?

If asked to describe myself today, in 2012 A.C.: “After Children”, it would look something like this:

Exhausted, creative, lackluster, somewhat inverted because she doesn’t feel like she has anything interesting to talk about, no longer self-confident, and educated young woman, seeks opportunities to network with others, make the world a better place, and establish a reputable name for herself, career, and family. Would settle, however, for a shower that wasn’t interrupted by a toddler playing peekaboo with the shower curtain or a cup of coffee that wasn’t reheated 3 times prior to complete consumption. Financially dependent upon her husband and not afraid to clip coupons, spending hard-earned dollars on funny T-shirts and stylish shoes is a thing of the past. Diligent pupil at the theoretical “School of Wit” she has graduated with honors possessing a double-major in sarcasm and self-deprecating humor. Has almost NO time to nurture her interests of creative writing, people watching, exercise,and attending concerts & comedic performances. Two glasses of wine now make her quite giggly or in a state of comatose depending on the afternoon that she has had. Overtired and suffering from a terminal case of “baby-brain”, she is the gal to call to organize projects large and small and offer original, innovative ideas to take your school lesson plans, charity events, staff functions, and business ventures to the next level-- just don’t expect her to remember that she said “Sure, I’d love to do it” and make a deadline unless you see her write it down before your very eyes. Always willing to try something new, she will take time to enroll her children in new classes and put her life on hold for the benefit of her family. Hates cooking, but loves eating. A little too much.

So here I am on a Tuesday morning writing a 4-page invitation to my pity party in a terry cloth robe. My initiative to go running at the gym was overridden by my husband’s initiative to bring home a treat for us: a ½ dozen from The Donut Dip. Caiden’s watching his favorite “Baby Einstein” DVD and I am typing 1-handed as Ryan is sitting in my lap. I wonder if they will read these musings one day. I wonder what they will think of them if they do. Will they question my feelings towards raising them? I hope not. They are, without a doubt, my most prized “possessions” and greatest accomplishment. But I do hope, that with the gift of time and a learned skill of achieving a balance of good parenting and self-expression, that they might be surprised that at at one point in time I was full of self-doubt and wasn’t really sure who I was or who I had become. I hope that in years to come, after spinning my wheels in this “Mama Rut”, I will break free instead of burn out. I hope that, if asked to describe me in terms of “A.C.”, they could say something like this:

Vibrant, creative, passionate, outgoing, relatively self-confident, and educated woman, seeks opportunities to network with others, make the world a better place, and continue to establish a reputable name for herself and family. Set out on a new career path and was successful at being a talented freelance author and doting mother. Financially codependent and not afraid to spend hard-earned dollars on the finer things in life like a vacation with her family or good bottle of wine to share with a friend. Sympathetic when you need her to be, but still funny as hell. Enjoys spending her free time nurturing her interests of creative writing, people watching, exercise, attending concerts & comedic performances, volunteering for non-profits,and spending quality time with those that she holds most dear. Never takes for granted the gifts that are found in the company of her husband, hanging out with her beloved children, the calm and peace of uninterrupted showers, and her daily cup of hot java. Takes good care of herself, her home, and her family-- physically and spiritually. Focused and goal-oriented, she is the gal to call to organize projects large and small and offer original, innovative ideas to take your school lesson plans, charity events, staff functions, and business ventures to the next level. Always willing to try something new, she will take time to enroll in new classes and put her life on the line in order to help someone in need. Mediocre cook and can demonstrate self-restraint when faced with an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Ok. So maybe the last part is a stretch. But a girl can wish, right?