I had a bit of a weird experience today. I went to my MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group and each table has a mentor mom. Some of the tables had mentor moms like you would expect-- grown children, grandchildren-- but most tables had moms like me. Moms with 9 year olds. None of them had babies in the house anymore-- my youngest two are 3 years old and 1 year old-- but one gal, her youngest was 4 years old. I feel like I should have been empowered seeing that I could be a mentor mom. Instead, I felt like, oh crap. WHY DON'T I HAVE MY LIFE TOGETHER.
Just that morning my oldest son (in 3rd grade) was in trouble for fighting with one of his 1st grade brothers. After breakfast, I found packed lunch pails strewn about the dining room instead of put in backpacks, like I specifically said. Our 1st graders went in their room and pulled out art instead of brushing their teeth and getting socks on. The baby spent the morning climbing furniture and emptying drawers. And our 3 year old ran around like a rabid chupacabra.
How could I mentor anyone? I feel like I'm barely holding on. I feel like parenting older children has been way harder than when they were babies. I remember when our twins were born. Our oldest was 2 years old and we had around the clock feedings. We had schedules and doctors appointments. I had a time of day set that I would do laundry. Everything was structured and I hated it. But.... I had a time of day that I knew I would have rest. A time of day where I knew all 3 of my children would be napping or having a quiet time and I could have me time. I would read a book every few days at that point in my life. It took me all summer to read one book this year.
From the minute I get out of bed to 8:30 or 9 o'clock at night, I am MOM (and, I'm frequently pulling night shifts). I am breaking up fights. I am chasing toddlers. I am changing diapers. I am disciplining our 3 year old. I am managing our older 3. I am getting backpacks, lunches, folders, homework, rushing out the door to the bus stop, home for naptime, cooking for dinner time, packing lunches again... I am having to go up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs solving problems for our children that I never even thought of when all our children were babies. The to-do list is long, long, long and I really thought it would be easier.
Easier? Maybe I thought it would be better. Every back to school time I see memes of parents celebrating because HOORAY! our children will be in school all day!
Maybe I will get there.
But right now I have to get 5 children ready for the day, only 3 of which will go to school. I get to bring toddlers to the bus stop. Wake toddlers up to go to the bus stop. Spend all day with toddlers. And then do the evenings with 5 kids. Supervising homework for 3 children with a baby on my hip. Listening to our 1st graders read out loud while trying to keep toddlers in check.
It isn't fun.
I think, it should be fun. Shouldn't it?
Aren't these the years that slip through our fingers? When I look at my TimeHop, my heart breaks at how little they were. How I would love to kiss those tiny cherub cheeks again (their cheeks are still adorable... but my kids usually smell foot-like nowadays). To tell my past self how fast those years go. How quickly those around the clock feedings disappear and suddenly they are riding 2 wheeled bikes. How could 9 years happen in the blink of an eye? I still feel like that first time mom, holding my colicky baby and sobbing because I was so overwhelmed and I didn't know how I could do this every.single.night.
It breaks my heart feeling like I should view this time differently. It breaks my heart because I know-- I KNOW-- how quickly 9 years can fly by. In 9 more years, our oldest will be EIGHTEEN. In 3 years, he will be in 6th grade at middle school. In 6 years, he will be in HIGH SCHOOL and getting his DRIVER'S PERMIT. WHAT.
And don't even get me started on our 1st graders. I still think about sitting in the car outside our OBGyn staring at the ultrasound and texting my mom, "We are having twins!!!!!!!". And we have fast forwarded 6 years, pedal to the metal... the baby years, the toddler years, the preschool years, kindergarten, and now first grade. They READ. They do MATH. It's just like, What happened to my tiny babies?
Our last baby... our very last one is 1 year old. We are hitting milestones for the last time. Every time she does something new, we will never see another one of our baby's do that again. This was the last time we saw one of our babies take their very first steps. The last time we got a baby to sleep through the night. The last time we brought a baby home from the hospital. The. Last. Time.
I pray over these kids. I have verses that I read and I pray them over each of our children. I hold their hands and affirm to them how much I love them. I don't think it is humanly possible for me to love them anymore than I do. Thus far, I have dedicated my life to them. To their every waking moment, it is me.
There are times when it isn't a struggle. Times where it feels easy. Times where I'm not on edge wondering what the next minute holds, how this meal will go, who will be sent to bed early. There are times where going out in public doesn't lead to disaster.
I'm not in one of those times.
Maybe that is what being a mentor mom is though. Knowing that with some kids, certain ages and stages are different. Knowing that you can do everything "right" and it won't work with one of your children's personalities. Being a mentor mom is knowing that it can be so hard right now, but eventually... for unknown reasons... things will shift. And they can get easier for awhile... And then be difficult again. It means knowing that you can easily connect with some of your children and it is harder with others, just because your personalities are different. I think most of all, it means knowing that no matter how hard it is, the love is there. We care so much about these tiny people. I think that is a lesson I have learned in my parenting journey: parenting isn't always fun and you aren't a bad parent because of that.
I don't know where these mentor moms are in their parenting journey. Maybe they are in an easy phase. Maybe they do have better outlooks or great support. Maybe there is something said for having all of your children in school full time and actually having a parenting break during the school day. Maybe they just have it more together than I do.
I'm not sure. I walked into the MOPS meeting feeling like I was holding my breath and I walked out feeling like I had done a deep and full exhale. It was so wonderful being surrounded by other moms going through this stuff. Asking all these questions. Connecting with each other and wanting to feel like they weren't "the only ones going through this" (Parenting Fear #1). I'm excited to talk to the mentor moms and to hear their perspectives and what it's like having all your kids in school. ("Is it true?? Can you use the restroom all by yourself???") I am really excited that we have assigned tables and that I can get to know a small group of women before diving into the much larger group.
The best part is, it doesn't matter what phase of parenting we are in. I can bring my whole hot mess self and someone there will say, "Amen, sister."
Just that morning my oldest son (in 3rd grade) was in trouble for fighting with one of his 1st grade brothers. After breakfast, I found packed lunch pails strewn about the dining room instead of put in backpacks, like I specifically said. Our 1st graders went in their room and pulled out art instead of brushing their teeth and getting socks on. The baby spent the morning climbing furniture and emptying drawers. And our 3 year old ran around like a rabid chupacabra.
How could I mentor anyone? I feel like I'm barely holding on. I feel like parenting older children has been way harder than when they were babies. I remember when our twins were born. Our oldest was 2 years old and we had around the clock feedings. We had schedules and doctors appointments. I had a time of day set that I would do laundry. Everything was structured and I hated it. But.... I had a time of day that I knew I would have rest. A time of day where I knew all 3 of my children would be napping or having a quiet time and I could have me time. I would read a book every few days at that point in my life. It took me all summer to read one book this year.
From the minute I get out of bed to 8:30 or 9 o'clock at night, I am MOM (and, I'm frequently pulling night shifts). I am breaking up fights. I am chasing toddlers. I am changing diapers. I am disciplining our 3 year old. I am managing our older 3. I am getting backpacks, lunches, folders, homework, rushing out the door to the bus stop, home for naptime, cooking for dinner time, packing lunches again... I am having to go up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs solving problems for our children that I never even thought of when all our children were babies. The to-do list is long, long, long and I really thought it would be easier.
Easier? Maybe I thought it would be better. Every back to school time I see memes of parents celebrating because HOORAY! our children will be in school all day!
Maybe I will get there.
But right now I have to get 5 children ready for the day, only 3 of which will go to school. I get to bring toddlers to the bus stop. Wake toddlers up to go to the bus stop. Spend all day with toddlers. And then do the evenings with 5 kids. Supervising homework for 3 children with a baby on my hip. Listening to our 1st graders read out loud while trying to keep toddlers in check.
It isn't fun.
I think, it should be fun. Shouldn't it?
Aren't these the years that slip through our fingers? When I look at my TimeHop, my heart breaks at how little they were. How I would love to kiss those tiny cherub cheeks again (their cheeks are still adorable... but my kids usually smell foot-like nowadays). To tell my past self how fast those years go. How quickly those around the clock feedings disappear and suddenly they are riding 2 wheeled bikes. How could 9 years happen in the blink of an eye? I still feel like that first time mom, holding my colicky baby and sobbing because I was so overwhelmed and I didn't know how I could do this every.single.night.
It breaks my heart feeling like I should view this time differently. It breaks my heart because I know-- I KNOW-- how quickly 9 years can fly by. In 9 more years, our oldest will be EIGHTEEN. In 3 years, he will be in 6th grade at middle school. In 6 years, he will be in HIGH SCHOOL and getting his DRIVER'S PERMIT. WHAT.
And don't even get me started on our 1st graders. I still think about sitting in the car outside our OBGyn staring at the ultrasound and texting my mom, "We are having twins!!!!!!!". And we have fast forwarded 6 years, pedal to the metal... the baby years, the toddler years, the preschool years, kindergarten, and now first grade. They READ. They do MATH. It's just like, What happened to my tiny babies?
Our last baby... our very last one is 1 year old. We are hitting milestones for the last time. Every time she does something new, we will never see another one of our baby's do that again. This was the last time we saw one of our babies take their very first steps. The last time we got a baby to sleep through the night. The last time we brought a baby home from the hospital. The. Last. Time.
I pray over these kids. I have verses that I read and I pray them over each of our children. I hold their hands and affirm to them how much I love them. I don't think it is humanly possible for me to love them anymore than I do. Thus far, I have dedicated my life to them. To their every waking moment, it is me.
There are times when it isn't a struggle. Times where it feels easy. Times where I'm not on edge wondering what the next minute holds, how this meal will go, who will be sent to bed early. There are times where going out in public doesn't lead to disaster.
I'm not in one of those times.
Maybe that is what being a mentor mom is though. Knowing that with some kids, certain ages and stages are different. Knowing that you can do everything "right" and it won't work with one of your children's personalities. Being a mentor mom is knowing that it can be so hard right now, but eventually... for unknown reasons... things will shift. And they can get easier for awhile... And then be difficult again. It means knowing that you can easily connect with some of your children and it is harder with others, just because your personalities are different. I think most of all, it means knowing that no matter how hard it is, the love is there. We care so much about these tiny people. I think that is a lesson I have learned in my parenting journey: parenting isn't always fun and you aren't a bad parent because of that.
I don't know where these mentor moms are in their parenting journey. Maybe they are in an easy phase. Maybe they do have better outlooks or great support. Maybe there is something said for having all of your children in school full time and actually having a parenting break during the school day. Maybe they just have it more together than I do.
I'm not sure. I walked into the MOPS meeting feeling like I was holding my breath and I walked out feeling like I had done a deep and full exhale. It was so wonderful being surrounded by other moms going through this stuff. Asking all these questions. Connecting with each other and wanting to feel like they weren't "the only ones going through this" (Parenting Fear #1). I'm excited to talk to the mentor moms and to hear their perspectives and what it's like having all your kids in school. ("Is it true?? Can you use the restroom all by yourself???") I am really excited that we have assigned tables and that I can get to know a small group of women before diving into the much larger group.
The best part is, it doesn't matter what phase of parenting we are in. I can bring my whole hot mess self and someone there will say, "Amen, sister."
Comments
It's amazing that you get to share your experience with other moms. It makes things easier psychologically - knowing you're not the only one going through stuff.