Today marks the day that I became a mom. 9 short years ago. It doesn’t feel that long ago. But at this moment, 9 years ago, I was in the hospital awaiting the arrival of my first born. It was nothing like I planned. Nothing went expected. But at the end of the day, at 9:49 p.m., a perfect little baby boy entered this world.
Watching him grow and turn into the young man that he is slowly becoming has been quite the experience. I will say that no matter what you do, nothing prepares for this crazy ride of parenthood. Your children will surprise you on a daily basis – with kindness, with ambitions, with absolute craziness. There are days that being a mom is the last thing you want to do and yet at the end of the same day, you will look at your sleeping child and be so in awe of the fact that you created something so absolutely amazing.
D made me a mama. He challenges me and he pushes back hard. But every day I thank God for him. For his empathy, his intensity, his love of sports. For his humor, his goofiness, his amazing smarts. He might keep me on my toes and make me question every parenting step I take, but man is that kid something special.
So, happy becoming a mama day to me and a big happy 9th birthday to him.
I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships lately. Maybe it’s because an old friend of mine has been haunting my dreams even though we haven’t spoken in almost 7 years. Maybe it’s because I just went on a road trip with two women I met online to see another woman we met online – because we created an amazing friendship through the internet somehow and love hanging out with each other. Maybe it’s because I have friends that are becoming more present again or because my bestie calls me multiple times a week to chat. Whatever the reason might be, it’s been burning my brain.
I truly believe there are three types of friendships that happen in life. Friendships that happen for a reason, friendships that happen for a season and friendships that last a lifetime. Now sometimes these friendships can be an AMAZING mix of these three as well. And sometimes, you won’t realize exactly what type of friendship it was or is until many years down the road. I have had a lot of friendships that were for a reason, lasted for a season and somehow re-sparked and will hopefully last a lifetime.
I’ve noticed that among women, it can be difficult to form and keep friendships. I’ve seen negativity between people that are supposed to be great friends. I’ve also seen women come together as a village to help someone in their darkest times – after a miscarriage, while leaving an abusive relationship, after losing a child, when things were so bad financially they didn’t know where there next meal was coming from. People are fickle creatures… and with the way we are continuously evolving it’s hard to maintain friendships in the same way forever. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could be like children again? “Do you want to be my friend?” “Sure!” And off they go into the sunset.
I had a childhood best friend. We spent 12 years together, inseparable for most of it, with inside jokes that I still replay to this day. There was even a short point where we weren’t in each other’s lives and then we were brought back together and were amazing again. At the time, I truly, with every ounce of my being, believed that friendship was going to last a lifetime. It turns out that it was a friendship that was for a reason. She was there for me through a lot of dark times. A lot of things that other people in my life will never know affected me or how it did. I know I caused a lot of drama with some of the issues I went through and she stuck by me through it for a long time. I will eternally be grateful that for 12 years, we were best friends and she and her family made my life a little more tolerable. I’m not sure why she’s been playing a leading role in my dreams lately, but maybe my subconscious knows I’m struggling a bit and remembers how she was always there before.
I have friends that I met online that were there for a season. They helped me through a stage of motherhood that I couldn’t have survived without them. How blessed am I that they were there through all of that? I count myself very lucky. And even if we don’t talk anymore, they are there still, as friends on Facebook, and I would do anything in my power to help them if they ever needed it.
I also will openly admit that I am TERRIBLE at the friendship thing. Don’t get me wrong. I do believe that I am a genuinely good person with a big heart. I would give you the shirt off of my back if it meant that you wouldn’t suffer. But when it comes to the maintaining friendships thing – I SUCK. I am super self involved in my every day life. I have my kids and other people’s kids and I am constantly on the go. That doesn’t mean that I won’t take the time to talk to you. Or make sure to call back and see if everything is OK. I just am not good at initiating.
Now, there have been plenty of people that have fallen into the two categories of reason and season obviously. My life is still thriving so how am I to truly know who my lifetime friends will be? I’ve had stages in my life where some of my best friends weren’t there – my bestie now, who I truly believe will be a lifetime friend, and I had a falling out for a few months when I was having a hard time being good to myself, let alone anyone else. We all go through seasons in life where things aren’t the same. Where we change, the people around us change, something happens to drive us apart, but if we’re lucky something in life drives us back together. I’ve definitely had that happen with multiple people in my life.
I have my first friends – siblings and cousins.
I have my acquired friends – my MIL (I know you’re jealous) and others that are somehow related.
I have my friends that have fallen into the reason and season categories – the women I have known the longest and that have been there for me the most.
I have my internet friends who have become my real life friends – these women have also been there for me through a TON. There are MANY that are missing from my photos here but they are loved no less.
Now some of these people are just stuck with me for life because of family ties. Others I want to be stuck with and they want to be stuck with me. Even though I struggle with being a good friend all of the time, I love those that consider me their friend and being the person I am, they will always be a friend of mine. I don’t know how any of my friendships will work out – besides those that are with family members – but I’m hoping that the older I get, the more lifetime friendships I develop. Less of the season friendships.
Here I am. I’m going to bare it all for you. Please, be gentle in your judgement. Seeing as it is Maternal Mental Health Awareness week this week and for the month of May, I figured, why not open up to an entire planet of strangers.
Mental Health has had such a stigma behind it for so many years…. I was diagnosed with depression in college. After D was born, I was diagnosed with anxiety as well. I actually went untreated for Post-Partum Depression after having him because I was so terrified of the repercussions of my not feeling 100% after having a baby. Things certainly have changed since then though. Now people talk about things – partially because of social media in my most unbiased opinion.
When I became pregnant with G, I stopped taking my medicine because I was told it was safer for the baby. Promptly six weeks after having him my baby blues turned back into PPD. Which in turn, turned into depression and anxiety.
I was able to get my meds back into control and I was beginning to lead a mostly normal life. And then I became pregnant with O. I once again thought it would be okay to go off of my medication while pregnant. And while pregnant, it was tolerable. But then PPD hit. And it HIT ME HARD. At one point I wrote the following to my friends and family.
I’d like to be open with my friends and family about something that affects between 11-20% of new mothers each year and I have struggled with each pregnancy. Post-partum depression/anxiety. Luckily, I’ve been able to recognize the signs and get the proper help that I needed but I know so many people struggle, not knowing what it is that they’re dealing with and why they’re feeling the way they are. This is my attempt to educate others and maybe help other moms out there.
My PPD started early this time around. After only two weeks home with my precious little man, I began to become engulfed by my emotions. At first I thought it was just the baby blues – mood swings brought on by your rebalancing hormones. Man, was I wrong. I think part of my anxieties were brought on by breastfeeding difficulties caused by his shallow latch, but things snowballed very quickly. OB likes to be held, he’s a very loving, snuggly and alert baby. All amazingly wonderful things, but not for someone with PPD. I would get instant dread the moment he began to fuss. “Does he want to nurse? That’s going to hurt. Does he want to be held? I have so many things to do.” My anxiety would spike before he latched knowing that the initial pain was going to be horrible. When he wouldn’t let me put him down because he just wanted love, my anxiety would spike again. I would be on the couch, holding this sweet, sweet baby and on the inside I felt like I was being swallowed by a black abyss. Things weren’t getting done around the house – and plenty of people tell you to just let those things go to the wayside and enjoy your new baby. I felt lost. I couldn’t clean, my other children weren’t getting the attention they needed and my feelings of anxiety were making everything so much worse.
Friends that were there for me throughout the pregnancy were now busy with their own lives. The silence was so LOUD. I felt abandoned. All alone in this sea of darkness. When I finally sought medical help, I was given a prescription and the directive to “ask for help.” So, I asked my friends. Many of them didn’t even respond. They didn’t check on me. They were gone. Some of them had never experienced mental illness like I was experiencing. Some of them had. But their silence spoke louder than anything else. So despite the fact that I had begun the medications I so desperately needed, my anxieties and depression were still there. I felt like I must not be a good enough friend, that people I love could just leave me behind so easily. Every day I struggled to feel like I was enough – enough for my husband, enough for my children, enough for my friends but mostly ENOUGH for MYSELF.
There is such a stigma surrounding mental illness in our society. Luckily, it’s getting better and there is more and more research and acceptance surrounding it. I was able to find the perfect balance of medication to get me through the silence of my friends, the confusion of my husband and the needs of my children. After two weeks and a dose adjustment holding my baby didn’t make me feel like I was going to die. I could enjoy the snuggles of my last baby. I could nurse him without feeling completely overwhelmed. There is still some radio silence from people I once thought of as my closest friends, my husband still doesn’t always understand the overwhelming emotions that can still engulf me on a bad day but I am in such a better place knowing I’m able to be present as a mom without feeling like my world is ending.
I hope that telling my story will help someone else. A new mom who is feeling the same way I did, a friend who doesn’t know how to be there for their friend that is struggling as a new mom, a husband who isn’t sure what their wife is going through. Mental illness is so hard in so many ways. Feeling like you are the worst mother in the world after having a new baby is probably the hardest part of it all though. If you’re feeling this way, you aren’t alone and there is help out there.
I will make this public so people can share … end the stigma. Let’s help each other.
It was so difficult to be open and honest with people about not feeling 100% after having a baby. But having a baby isn’t all rainbows and butterflies and unicorn horns. IT’S HARD. And so many new mom’s go into motherhood thinking they have to be perfect. Which is the farthest thing from the truth. You would think that people would be all about giving advice on how to stay sane during the first few hours, days, weeks, months. But instead it feels like a topic that gets swept under the rug. I say ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
The Blue Dot project is working incredibly hard to lift the stigma and the shame behind maternal mental health topics. The Blue Dot is a national symbol showing support and solidarity to mothers who are just trying to survive a maternal mental health disorder like postpartum depression.
You can find ways to support them and mother’s trying to work through these issues through the Blue Dot Project’s website.
If you’re a mother – or know a mother – please join us this week. From their website:
For Moms: A #RealMotherhood 5-Day Challenge
We’re asking you to get real about motherhood by sharing photos and posts that show the real face of motherhood. Images can be light-hearted or serious- it’s up to you! They can be of meds you had to get on, dirty dishes overflowing out of your sink, going to work with baby vomit on your shirt, or your beautiful, glowing, stretch mark skin.Use their hashtags as well….. #RealMotherhood #NoShame
Ya’ll. I have to give credit where credit is due. My friend of Blooming Portraits just designed me not one, but TWO absolutely fantastic logo designs!! Consider using her not only for your photography needs but your graphic design needs as well.
Let’s make our communities that are so large and bustling feel just a little bit more like a village. Because none of us should feel alone in this momming thing. It’s hard.
I’m sure at some point you’ve heard that saying “it takes a village to raise a child.” I know that I’ve heard it a million times. Before having children it was something that I didn’t take much stock in. But it really does, doesn’t it? In today’s society though there isn’t much kid raising done by the community. Everyone is afraid to step in and help because they are so worried they’re going to offend someone or do something wrong. It makes me so sad.
But you know what makes me even more sad? The fact that there are so many mom’s out there that are struggling and don’t have a village to help them. A couple years ago I became a part of a tight knit mom’s group on Facebook. It was fantastic. It was exactly what I needed at that time in my life and I will be forever grateful for the support that those women gave to me. We’re all still friends on Facebook for the most part and there are still a handful of those women that I can’t go without talking to. But life moves forward and sometimes friendships do too. And even with that truth, I would drop everything in my life to help any one of those women if they needed me to. And I feel like we need so much more of that in the lives of moms!
When I was at the Children’s Theater and that other mama was struggling, I had an instant urge to help her. BUT. I almost didn’t. Because I was worried she would take it the wrong way. You know how she took it? With thankfulness. And watching her visibly relax, even just a little bit, was so amazing. I want to see that for more mom’s that are struggling.
I want the mom with the tantruming child in the middle of Target to know that she isn’t alone. That her child tantruming isn’t a sign that she’s a bad mom, it’s a sign that she’s an amazing mom.
I want the mom who is so physically and mentally wiped out to know that she isn’t alone. That right now things are HARD but that one day, maybe in the distant future, but one day, it’s going to be so much easier.
I want the mom who is having marital problems, the mom who has always been a solo parent, the mom fighting demons, the all organic mom, the McDonald’s drive-thru mom, the mix of everything mom, EVERY SINGLE mom to know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Your struggles as a mom may be unique to you but someone out there knows what you’re going through in one way or another. There is another mom out there who can help you feel more normal about your accomplishments and your failures.
And I’ve come up with a little way that we can all do that for another mom. I hope that you’ll help me with my Moms Empowering and Encouraging Together (MEET) movement. I’ve had an amazing graphic designer help me create a little business card that you can print off at home. If you’re in need of something creative done you can check her out at denikaanderson.com.
My vision is that you’ll print these little business cards off and you’ll hand one to the next mom you see who is visibly struggling. Show her she isn’t alone. Heck, maybe give her two so she can give one to another mom. Let’s make our communities that are so large and bustling feel just a little bit more like a village. Because none of us should feel alone in this momming thing. It’s hard. Hell, it’s probably one of the hardest things we’ll ever do…
Let’s try to be the amazing people we are and instead of tearing each other down, let’s build each other up. Let’s give every one a smile they deserve for the day. A knowing look. And a card that says, “I know how you feel.”
If you’re feeling up to it, you can head over to vistaprint.com and they’ll print 100 business cards for $1.99. I’ve included the single sided design for that option. Or just print them from home. I don’t think that the card’s material is what is important as much as the act of giving it and what it says on it.
I really hope that you’ll join me in this. It takes a village…. why not create our own.
** I would like to apologize in advance for how all over the place this post is – xoxo Brix**
Do you ever feel like your life is a never ending loop? A Bill Murray-less Groundhog’s Day? I feel like life as a mom can basically be summed up in that way. Are there special moments that break up the monotony? Of course. But even in a lot of those moments I feel as though there is still that repetitiveness of every day life. Even when you plan something special there can be that expected change of plans that nearly always happen.
I clean pee from the same toilets, wash the same food covered clothes, follow the kids around the house picking up the same toys as they follow me around the house undoing all of my hard work.
Their behavior is always predictable. And always repetitive.
Take this past weekend. I had tickets to see The Lorax. I bought these tickets because of my “ah-ha” moment when writing Burnt Pancakes. I planned on bringing ALL of my boys to something that had been special to me as a child and that I enjoy. It was no surprise whatsoever to me that my plans didn’t go smoothly. Mr B had to work. Because of that fact, B decided he would rather stay home and hang out with his friends. So I forced D to go even though he wanted to go to his dad’s to watch the Timberwolves play. Just D, G, O and myself – although I gave the two extra tickets to a friend of mine so she could bring her son. What the hell was I thinking?
Don’t they look thrilled?
I wasn’t surprised when there was traffic. I wasn’t surprised when G boycotted a nap for the day. I wasn’t surprised when 2 minutes before the play was supposed to begin, G decided he had to potty. Or again when he had to go potty 20 minutes into the first act. Definitely not surprised when D argued with me the whole way to the play that he wasn’t going to like it and it would be the same as the ones he sees at the high school. And I wasn’t surprised when O, who is definitely too young for a play, became overly restless. I was however, surprised when we made it through the whole first act.
Almost got a good picture.
So for the second half, I had to leave my friend and go to the Quiet Room. This room is pure genius and I couldn’t ask for anything more enjoyable. Every single movie theater should have these as well. O was able to crawl around, which of course led to G crawling around and D watched the whole second act, even though there’s no possible way he would like it.
And you know what was amazing. That we weren’t the only ones in the quiet room. I wasn’t the only person that had children that weren’t able to stay focused. In fact, there was one mama that was there with her two boys and expecting her third (yes, I was that person and asked her). She was struggling with her 2 year old who was at the same point as my 2 year old, but her older boy really wanted to finish the play. I heard her say to her son, “I can’t do this anymore H. It’s too hard for me. We’re going to have to go.” The constant battle to keep her toddler occupied was taking its toll. And without asking or thinking or judging, I asked O if he wanted to play with G. I asked if he likes to “make new friends, because G LOVES to make new friends.” And for the remaining 15 minutes of the play, that mama got to stand next to her other son and finish watching the play while O and G crawled around pretending to be monkeys. She thanked me.
I got to thinking though…. why? She shouldn’t have to thank me for my help. That should be something we innately do as mothers. Help each other out. It takes a village. I’m just happy I could be a member of hers for her in that moment. I think we’ve created a society that is failing our mothers if we’re scared to offer help to another mom in need. Be someone’s village. Cause I know there are plenty of days I would love to have someone help me when G is running around like a crazed banshee.
A few weeks ago I bought myself a new coffee mug. A Wonder Woman themed coffee mug with a color changing scale on it.
The scale turns red when your coffee is hot…. now obviously the scale is supposed to turn black slowly as you drink your coffee.
BUT
Let’s be real.
This is what my cup looks like right now.
See that tiny bit of red left in the middle of the scale…. notice how my coffee is almost full still?
That’s real life people.
Cold coffee. I’m constantly distracted by something and moving from one thing to another, never slowing down long enough to enjoy my coffee when it’s hot.
The real surprise here is that I even know where my damn coffee is. Usually it teleports itself around my house and I spend most of my day searching for it as it gets colder and colder. Lucky for me I’m more of an iced coffee chick anyway.
Have you heard of the book Go the F**k to Sleep? Have you actually watched/listened to the narrated version done by Samuel Jackson? He is the connoisseur of the word f**k so it makes it so much funnier. If you haven’t heard of it, read it, listened to it…. here’s the link for you:
Now I’m obviously mentioning this because I needed my kids to go the f**k to sleep. Today I was pushed to all of my mental limits and bed time could not come fast enough. I know plenty of moms who would handle my child’s difficult days with grace and poise. I want to be one of those moms. But by bedtime I’m hyperventilating from my anxiety and can’t take one more intentional rule breaking.
I want this to be my truth.
The morning actually went fairly decent. Both the little ones napped early and I was able to get through some spring cleaning – despite the fact that it apparently is NOT spring here in Minnesota, but rather Snowmageddon.
BUT THEN he. woke. up.
He punched the baby. He pooped in his underwear. Very intentionally might I add. He dumped my water out. Dumped cereal out EVERYWHERE. Was just being a very difficult toddler.
Then we headed out to Blooming Portraits Photography Studio for Oliver’s 9 month photo shoot. I am OBSESSED with getting photos taken. My family hates it. I don’t give a rat’s ass. O was amazing. He smiled, he posed, he took FANTASTIC photos just to make mommy as happy as could be – it may have been unintentional but still. G was able to keep it together until the end of the shoot. And then it all spiraled out of control. It was small things at first, ya know? Not putting on his boots, not coming when I asked him to, not putting his jacket on, not getting into his carseat, screaming when I buckled him into his carseat.
We went grocery shopping because I am a gluten for punishment apparently. Supermom to ALDI! I spent maybe 15 minutes in the store. I grabbed the bare necessities. As we were leaving he was crawling on the conveyor belt, climbing on the bagging area and throwing a balloon at anyone who walked by.
When we got home, he locked himself in the bathroom while I was nursing the baby. He sprayed the entire room down with cleaner. But I didn’t yell. I did what I imagine all the good moms of the world do. I took him to another room, redirected him and I cleaned it up. No yelling. He still cried. And hell, my bathroom that I was already planning to clean, actually got clean.
The finished product of the bathroom he destroyed.
He continued to do as many jerky toddler things as he could think of until I finally felt my sanity snap. So I put him to bed. I told him I loved him, put him in bed and locked the child lock on the handle as I shut the door. I will not do the potty trick, or the water trick, or the adorable pouty lip trick.
Last night, when giving my two littlest a bath together, I sat on the toilet while they played. I can only assume that is where most parents sit. I stand up and see G holding himself as though he is going to pee. So I ask him…
“Are you peeing?”
“No, mama.”
“Do you need to pee?”
“No, mama.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, mama.”
So I start to walk back to my perch on the toilet and I hear it. The tinkling sound of pee hitting water.
“G!”
He stops. Or so I think. I start to walk again and I again hear it. This time he isn’t able to pinch it off and I see that he is aiming directly at his brother.
“DON’T PEE ON YOUR BROTHER!!”
FFS. I did not realize what I was signing up for when I became a mother apparently. Parenting is essentially a romantic comedy that takes place during a college party. During my years of momming I’ve learned a handful of things.
Using the bathroom becomes one of two things – a luxurious vacation or a spectator sport. Timing is what it all comes down to. Even if you have the chance to lock the door behind you, chances are you will see little fingers under the door and hear question after question.
Being allowed to shop alone -AT ALL- will become a mini vacation as well.
You will say some form of “please speak kindly,” “how do you ask,” or “be nice” more times than you are able to count in a day.
As a boy mom I have said things such as:
“Don’t pee on your brother.”
“Please don’t wipe your butt on the couch.”
“Your penis belongs in your pants.”
“The couch is not a trampoline.”
“Your brother is not a trampoline.”
“The dog is NOT a trampoline.”
“If your penis is pointing up, you need pants on”
If you leave your children home with someone else prepare to come home to new stains and sticky spots in places you would never have imagined
There will be pee in every corner of your bathroom and you will have no idea how.
There is a good chance that you will resort to online shopping to avoid taking your children in public.
There is also a good chance that you will let more than one F BOMB drop in the course of your day. That’s OK. As long as it’s not your child’s first word. Fourth or fifth is fine though. 😉
Books will be read on repeat, shows will be watched on repeat and songs will be played on repeat. Invest in ear plugs.
There are days you will not like your kids. And no matter what the media or Facebook moms tell you, that’s OK. You don’t have to like someone to love them and just because you don’t like them today doesn’t mean you won’t like them tomorrow.
Bedtime is your salvation. Some nights you will literally be counting down the seconds. Other nights you will say “screw it” and make bedtime earlier than normal just to get your reprieve. This is also OK.
you will have cold food and cold coffee but you will have a warm lap and a full heart.
Meltdowns will happen. Their’s will typically happen in public and at the most inopportune moment. Yours will typically happen at home and will result in a terrible case of mom guilt – usually followed by crying in the closet with ice cream, chocolate, wine or all three. It’s OK for both of you to lose your shit. Just remember to apologize and move forward.
Dishes will pile up, your laundry will never be completely done, sippy cups will leak everywhere you don’t want them to, things will get broken. None of these things really matter but they will irritate the crap out of you at the time.
Baby wipes will become your best friend. They are literally the Swiss-Army knife of parenting. They can get nearly any stain out of clothing and will clean any mess your children make on themselves or anywhere else.
You will be tired. And not just regular tired. The kind of tired you feel in your bones. Because parenting is basically an experiment in how long your body can function on inadequate nourishment and sleep while being fueled by insane amounts of caffeine, adrenaline and baby smiles.
You will have moments of absolute awe and moments full of a love that is absolutely blinding. You will feel a swelling of pride that you can’t experience anywhere else in life. Because even though hearing a version of “mom” a million and one times in a day can be annoying, that million and second time is going to be at just the moment you need it and will be followed by “I love you.”
Parenting is the most difficult and most rewarding job in the world. It’s also messy, disgusting and plain out hard.
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