You Are More

When it comes to being a Mom, identity can be a pretty tricky thing.  

I mean, let's face it.  Being a Mom is a big role.  A huge role.  Sometimes, an all-consuming role.  It is incredibly easy to lose yourself and who you are in the midst of all that Momming.  

As soon as you are holding that sweet little bundle in your arms, instantly that is what people ask about when they see you.  And rightfully so.  You love that baby more than you thought you could love anything in this world.  You gladly answer those questions about how much your baby is eating or how they are sleeping or what new adorable thing they are starting to do.  Questions are no longer directed to you, as a person, but they are directed to you, as a Mom.

When your child is old enough to start having friends, whether at day care or in the neighborhood or at school, your name even begins to reflect this shift.  You are now "so and so's Mom."  Your identity in that realm is now as Mom.  Other kids aren't at all interested in what your actual name is, and might honestly not even realize you have your own actual name.  And rightfully so.  You love being that kiddo's Mom, and there is great joy in knowing they have friends and even more amazingly, friends who know who you are.  You are no longer addressed as you, the person with a lovely name all your own, but you, "so and so's Mom."

But what's really crazy, is that the role of being a Mom is so enormous and complex that you can even lose your identity as a Mom within the role of being a Mom.

Sorry.  That was a confusing sentence.  

We are on day eleventy billion of self-isolation.  Which is clearly now reflected in my scrambled thoughts and writing.  Here, let me explain...

In the busyness that comes with being a Mom, we can lose who we are as a Mom in the hustle and bustle and constant demands and chaos of it all.  

In our house, spring always seems to be a little bit of a blur.  I often joke that from the day we get back from Spring Break until the last day of school it is an absolute, full throttle sprint.  It is soccer and softball and running clubs.  It is concerts and recitals.  It is lots of spring birthdays.  It is end-of-the-year everything and celebrations at school.  I feel like being a Mom takes on a life of it's own in the spring months.  And I love it all.  Every single second of it.  I really do.  

All that busyness helps me to know who I am as a Mom.  There are needs, and I know how to meet them.  

Who am I as a Mom?  

I know the answer to that question better than I know the bag chairs I haul in and out of my minivan and spend hours sitting in at various softball and soccer fields a million times a week in the spring.

I'm the Mom who spends the hours between 4:00pm and 9:00pm dropping children off and picking children up and dropping children off again at fields and practices within a 4 square mile radius.

I'm the Mom who signs the planners and returns the notes for the special events at school.

I'm the Mom who makes sure the uniforms are washed and ready for whatever game is on the calendar for that day.

I'm the Mom who keeps track of that jam-packed calendar.

I'm the Mom at the end of year band concert or piano recital.

I'm the Mom who brings snacks for the team or sends cupcakes to school for a birthday treat.

I'm the Mom on the field trip or at the school picnic or field day.

That's who I am as a Mom.

But with the "pause" we are currently in, I've come to realize that question becomes harder for me to answer so quickly.  It's made me come to recognize I sometimes find my identity as a Mom in all that stuff and doing and busyness.

If I'm not that Mom, then what?

Who am I as a Mom?

I'm not gonna lie.  This question has kinda been haunting me these past few weeks.  I am in a different space and pace right now, and truth be told, it's made me feel a little unsettled and uncomfortable and uneasy.  And I've finally come to understand that this question was unknowingly at the root of a lot of those feelings.

Who am I as a Mom?

My daughter answered that for me yesterday.  Thankfully, she is infinitely smarter and more insightful than I am.  We were standing at the stove, and she had just finished dumping in the ingredients she had gathered to make play dough into the small saucepan on the front burner.  

"Mom, I'm actually kinda glad we have this time off. I get to do all these things I don't normally get to do with you."

Boom.  Mic drop.  End scene.

There it was.  In her 9-year-old truth telling, she laid it out for me.  She told me who I was as a Mom.

I am the Mom who makes play dough with her.  

She started the morning asking about making her own play dough because when she hauled out her Playdoh stuff, all the containers she had were either empty or completely dried out.  Now, mind you, she has not pulled out her Playdoh stuff in months.  But she is pulling out all the stops in terms of entertainment lately.  When she asked if she could make play dough, I told her she had to be in charge of it.  If she could find a recipe that was easy enough for her to do and was not too messy and did not involve leaving the house to get any ingredients, then yes, she could make play dough.  

I kind of wrote off the play dough thing, as I didn't hear from her for a while.  But with her tenacity, I should have known this play dough thing was not done.  Thirty minutes later, she emerged from her room asking "Mom, do we have any cream of tartar?"  And what do you know? We did.  A completely unopened small jar of cream of tartar.  Why that particular item ever made it into my shopping cart, into my spice cupboard, and stayed there for who knows how long remains a mystery to me.  But apparently, it was for such a time as this.  

And here's the thing.  I said yes.  Not just to the cream of tartar question.  But ultimately to the question of "Can I make play dough?" and "Can you do this with me?" and "Do we have time to do this?" and "Can we just try this and hang out together and see where it goes?"

Yes. Yes. Yes. And Yes.

On any other spring Saturday morning, making play dough would not have even crossed her mind as we left the house early for back to back to back games and birthday parties and bonfires and whatever else the day held.   And if for some strange reason she did ask me to make play dough on any other spring Saturday morning, the answer would have been 'no' or 'later' which, let's not kid ourselves, is just busy mom code for 'no.'

So there it is.  My daughter taught me something about myself yesterday without even knowing it, as she so often does.  

I am the Mom who makes play dough with her.

I am the Mom who makes crepes and lemon curd and whatever other new cooking adventure she wants to try with her.

I am the Mom who eats breakfast with her, even on weekdays.

I am the Mom who wears pajamas with her all day.

I am the Mom who watches Frozen II and Onward and Teen Beach Movie with her.  (Thanks, Disney+).

I am the Mom who has a dance party with her.

I am the Mom who laughs at something completely and utterly ridiculous with her.

I am the Mom who sits in her bed with her for an hour listening to her talk about what may or may not happen around her upcoming 10th birthday and realizes just how big this is in her world right now.  

I am the Mom who slows down enough to not only listen to what she is saying, but also to hear what she isn't saying, too.

I am the Mom who plays endless games of Racko and Yahtzee with her.

I am the Mom who makes memories with her.

It's ok if your identity as a Mom has changed in the midst of all of this.  It doesn't make you any less of a Mom.  On the contrary, it makes you more of a Mom.  You're exploring and learning about a whole new part of your Mom identity.  You're adding to your Mom repertoire. Or maybe you're remembering a part of your Mom identity that's always been there, but for whatever reason, has been hidden away for awhile. 

Just like any phase of life, you will eventually move forward from this particular time and space, but the things you've learned and the newly acquired aspects of your Mom identity will remain.  Whenever that time comes, though, please remember this:  You can choose what parts of your past Mom identity you want to put back on and what parts you want to leave behind.  You can decide which parts of your newfound Mom identity you want to bring with you, and which ones you'll tuck away for another season. 

You are more than car pools and packed school lunches and signed planners.  All of those things are valuable and important.  But please don't forget that those things don't define who are as a Mom. 

You are your kids' safe place.  You are their comfort.  You are their anchor.  You are their smiles.  You are their tears.  You are their good mornings and good nights.  You are their protector.  You are their encourager.  You are their guide.  You are their cheerleader.  You are their Mom.

You have always been all these things.  It's just that sometimes in the midst of all the car pools and packed school lunches and signed planners, it's easy to lose track of that part of your Mom identity.

You are more than you thought.  You are more than you believed.  You are more than you imagined.  You are a Good Mom.