And what I have learned so far is that nothing can replace the love of a good man. Compromise isn’t a far off notion, it is a daily concession. I will have regrets, no matter what. Chemistry is for the birds. It is hard to truly appreciate where I’m at when I’m there, despite a desire to focus on gratitude. God first, husband, kids then self (not last in everything but it’s just the order of things). I “needed” my mother less and less in my twenties, but more and more in my thirties. Never put off laundry. Having children is the single greatest and simultaneously least valued thing I’ve done. Some things are more important than being right. Teenage boys are cruel. You are what you eat. I should always be ready to apologize to my kids. Life balance is impossible. There’s only time to maintain a handful of meaningful relationships so choose wisely. Youth IS actually wasted on the young. But most of all, I have learned, that I know less and less with each passing year.
Category Archives: SAHM
My Daughter
She’s loud. She’s mouthy. She’s spirited. She’s willful. She’s sassy. She’s too much. She’s my daughter. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Now, no two people are exactly alike, but I always feared (and now I know, rightfully so) that I wouldn’t be able to escape the tough time I had given my Mom, over the years. And that I would probably experience retribution through my own children. Soren is soft and sweet and gentle like his Dad…and so the idea of having this girl, a girl like me in any way, freaked me out.
From the time she was growing inside me, she was kicking, flipping, never-ending, throwing jarring power punches. It never stopped. On the outside, she tests everyone, she pushes the limits, she kicks down my boundaries, she’s full of joy and piss and vinegar. And as she starts preschool this week, I find myself wondering what tools will she need that only I can give her? Why she was given to me? How can I encourage in her all of her strengths, not diminish any of her passion but help her learn to filter herself when appropriate? How do I lead by example?
I wonder, will she say exactly what she’s thinking, exactly when she’s thinking it?
I have A LOT of experience with this one. I have cringed more times than I’d like to count, reflecting on something I said without thinking. It’s a fine line to be genuine and true to yourself while considering the impact of what you say. It’s taken me 38 years and I still screw it up. All the time. But while I can look back and say I wish I’d refrained from verbal diarrhea, I also have to admit it’s liberating to be able to just say what’s in your head, what’s on your heart. I just want her to think about what she’s going to say for one second before it flies.
Will she be a hugger?
I watch her overwhelm other toddlers with physical affection. I can teach her (earlier than I learned) about social cues. Who doesn’t need a hug? Some people actually don’t. It’s a shame really, and it’s their loss but I’ve learned don’t hug the unhuggable.
Will she have a hot head?
Believe in what she believes in so fiercely that she’ll go down swinging? Overprotect the ones she loves to a fault? Maybe she’ll exert that energy on only worthy causes. From experience, I can help her discern who and what’s a worthwhile use of that energy.
Will she be soft and sensitive underneath her tough exterior?
Really fragile sometimes. Maybe I won’t try to guide her with that one at all. It’s our most redeeming quality.
I just hope I have wisdom and the right words to impart, to never change a thing about her but to help guide what’s there, in the raw. So strong, so sure, so free to be herself. So as she grows, so will I. Every day since I had her, I’ve grown more and more tolerant of myself. Less and less critical. Seeing so much of who I am in someone I love so much has helped me see “our” traits differently. I will celebrate our similarities so that she will too. And if the idea is for me to accept my idiosyncrasies more, and beat myself up less. If the idea is that I love the things I’ve always found less lovable about myself, because they’re reflected in someone so precious to me, then God has an awesome sense of humor. And I’ve certainly met my match.
Just one thing.
If you’re a mother, please do one thing…around your house every day? Nope. For your husband? Nah. To make the world a better place? Maybe, but that’s not what I mean.
So many things can go by the wayside in motherhood: hygiene, a clean house, a sense of control in a world that no longer belongs to you but for all you Moms out there, I implore you, do one thing, just one thing…FOR yourself.
Get up really early and read. Or to watch that DVR’d tv show that your kid should never see. Sit down to eat a meal. Read People Magazine. Carve out time to get a pedicure. Take a bath. Scrapbook. Girl’s Night. Get ready for the day. Ignore them. Turn on a show for them. Give them a pile of snacks. Just make the time.
For me, that thing is running.
I have become the reason they make sport and athletic shoe ads, in slow motion, to the theme song for Chariots of Fire. I’m why they make up cute and inspiring quotes for t-shirts and social media about women who run. I fall for it hook, line and sinker. Because with so much of my identity wrapped up in other people at this time in my life, I need to be inspired to remember myself. I need to have one little thing that’s just about Krissy. I’m not even that good at it and in my pre-kid life, the most I ever ran was, like, 3 miles. When I go for a run now, I exceed what I once believed I was capable of. Running (some) distance, without incontinence. Setting an example for my kids to be well, to put themselves first in some small area. Besides, who are we kidding, it gets my head straight to prepare me for the battle ahead. Against laundry, against sibling contention, against the crowds at Costco.
Whatever it is, make it a priority to do something for yourself. It’s ok. It’s important. It’s essential. You will be better for your family. Do just one thing for yourself. Oh, and I don’t mean drink a bottle of wine. Although, no judgement.
The SAHM’s Art of Doing Nothing
No matter how you cut it, a Mom’s work is hard, plain and simple. I respect every mom for her chosen path. Some have to work; some choose to work to be better moms when they’re at home; some stay at home; some stay at home and homeschool; some stay at home, homeschool and bake their own bread (and for the record, I’m no pioneer. I am (most days) just barely a SAHM). It’s all challenging. All versions of the gig have their pitfalls. There was a time before Soren when I think I might have been under the assumption that this wasn’t a job. That if I could just stay at home with my kids, I would, you know, do nothing but eat bon-bons, put my feet up, have more time to do laundry and on the side, raise my kids. As it turns out, not the job description.
One of the scariest parts of this job are long days, trapped inside the house. On these days, I try to amp up the activity. I keep us real, real busy. Working really hard, hauling kids from place to place. But this morning, I took a different approach. Sure, there are no bon-bons and I only put my feet up from 8:30pm (kid’s bedtime) to 9:15pm (my bedtime) but I could embrace some “doing nothing”. Instead of a playdate at the park, I was the human jungle gym. Instead of running errands in the car, we did airplanes on the floor. Instead of teaching them their ABC’s, I taught Soren how to rub my shoulders (for which a grateful daughter-in-law will thank me one day). Didn’t do a stitch of laundry. It will be there tomorrow. It always is.
Some on-the-job injuries were sustained but all in all, I got to enjoy what I do today. I ought to explore the perks of the job more often: my only deadline is dinner, bath, bed. The only important call I need to make is on a Fischer Price telephone. The only spreadsheet in my life these days houses the addresses for our Christmas card mailing list. My uniform is sweats. And when I want to, I can just hang with these kids and do nothing.
It’s not always easy and there are days when I wonder what my career path is. My patience with The Management is tested time and time again. But then I get a Bonus Kiss, or my “bosses” say that they love me or my husband gives me a vacation day. I get to hang out with some fabulous people. Serious perks to this job.
from cheeky to frumpy in 4 years flat 