The Keepers

No mother on her child’s birth day is thinking about who is going to wash the clothes she wore into the hospital to deliver. But I remember pausing at the dryer remarking at the absurdity: less than 2 days ago I was leaning down to pull out my own baby (oh yes I did) and now, those same arms are pulling clean clothes from the dryer. How could I go from something so incredibly monumental to something so utterly mundane? On her second day on Earth, everyone mentioned my daughter’s beauty, but not one person noticed we had on clean clothes. That’s because as a mom, I am the keeper of all things—even when they are invisible.

I keep: the peace, the schedule, the house, the secrets, the snacks, the routine, the hidden candy stashes, the trivial mental lists that contain an individualized abyss of knowledge specific to each need, want, and dislike. I keep everyone else’s sanity. The behind-the-scenes role of a mom is a full-time job, inside a full-time job. The very nature of behind-the-scenes implies these tasks are invisible.

The funny thing about invisibility is it makes you feel unseen.

This is why I always smile as I pass other mothers rushing and shushing their little ones along. I want to stop them and say I know all that you’ve done just to get here to this point. I know you, too, are the keeper of everything that’s invisible. I know your work, all your work, is a labor of love. We are the keepers of glitter so that they can sparkle.

The moving parts required to ensure a household stays up and running is like keeping a commercial jet 42,000 feet in the air. All that’s visible is everyone safely up in the air. But you see, mothers are the keepers of the magic that keeps our family flying.

The Depths of my Love for you

It was a typical Tuesday and my oldest was crying from her car seat that a “painful boogie [was] stuck in her nose” and when I went to stroke her head, she proceeded to use my pinky finger as her own personal booger catcher. The depths of my love for them are endless (pun intended).

This week I was carpooling with a group of beautiful Mamas to go stand-up paddle boarding, since we all happen to be experts in the art of balancing acts.

Naturally it only took us seconds to start talking about our offspring. After only a few hours together, I was able to compile this list of sacrifices, perceived humiliations (that we’ve learned to just take in stride), and struggles that we’ve had the honor of enduring on this unstable terrain called Motherhood.

Taking two separate cars on a 3-hour car trip in order to take apart and bring the baby’s crib so he would sleep at night on their “vacation”.

Sitting at a very crowded restaurant with friends while her child was the only one in her underwear because a drop of water spilled on her dress.

Being waved to the front of the line at Great Clips, because despite hiding the scissors in an overhead cabinet, inside a box, he was still able to find them and perform his first at-home haircut.

Calling poison control to inquire about your child ingesting deodorant, hand-sanitizer and Neosporin all before we've ingested our morning coffee.

Spending our precious alone time with various counselors, sleep specialists, or child psychologists to inquire about: sensory issues, biting, sleep regressions, and separation anxiety. Asking the tough questions like, "Why does my daughter love brushing her teeth, but then consider it physical torture when I try and dress her in anything with buttons or sleeves?"

Sleeping (or rather not sleeping) in their bed, next to their bed, or with them in our bed, outside the door to their room, in the hallway or anywhere that would allow for a few short minutes of rest.

There are no limits to how far we will go for our children. Luckily, I've lost the ability to be embarrassed over public: tantrums, nudity, or expulsion of bodily fluids. My children have used me as: a tissue, a pillow, a trash can, a blanket, a human shield, and a safety net (to name a few). It is a fair trade, though, since I use them as my sunshine.  

Motherhood: A Fine Line Between Humility & Humiliation

Just when I am starting to feel confident in my abilities as a mother or simply as a human being, my child will wipe a booger in my hair as I am tripping over a Lego. Just today I finally got ahead of the laundry only to open the washing machine and find that my oldest took it upon herself to change her nap time diaper by disposing of it in her hamper—which naturally ended up in the wash.

I’m going to go ahead and put it out there; many of the most dangerous and challenging moments in parenthood take place when I need to use the bathroom. I could probably rename my blog: Tales from the Toilet, but I'm not sure the kind of crowd I'd attract. These are the times when my children have stuck a bean in their nose, licked hand-sanitizer and attempted to ride the dog. Recently, on one such occasion I was cleaning our home for the 10 millionth time in two weeks. I thought I’d take a second to answer the call of nature when just over my head I heard the sound of tiny feet. I peered out from my seated position to see my oldest sitting peacefully on the couch, which left my only other offspring as the one venturing up the stairs (when she is not yet steady enough to be on the stair unattended). As a two-story home owner I can tell you, I’ve had nightmares about my children on the stairs, so I barreled out of the bathroom as pantsless as the day my children were born. I managed to catch my daughter at the top of the stairs, but didn’t pay any attention to my attire for the next few hours, since I was just so relieved she didn’t hurt herself.

After dropping my kids with my mom, I managed to finish cleaning. I was outside emptying the trash, mentally remarking on just how glamorous my life had become when my (male) neighbor (stay with me, I swear it's relevant) pulled up congratulating us on the sold sign on our front lawn. I told him about our plans to move and I went on to boast of our good fortune buying for the first time at the bottom of the market- even managing to throw around a fancy word like "equity". I wandered inside happy to have a second of adult interaction and it was in that moment I realized I had tucked my shirt into my plainly visible underwear. Now one might think this would be embarrassing, but see this is just a typical Tuesday for anybody with children.

In motherhood, we are constantly walking a fine line between humility and humiliation. My hope for you is always the former, but don’t be surprised when inevitably you get caught with your pants down.

I tell myself they are not laughing at me, but with me 😂