My Mom Identity
Prepare for things to get a little sappy. If needed, barf bags are located in the seat pocket in front of you, along with what’s left of your soul.
Having a baby is the closest thing to magic that exists here on Earth. For every frustrating and why are you crying you are not hungry, tired, or wet so I’m out of ideas moments, there are about a million more beautiful ones that feel too warm and fuzzy to be real. But they are. My heart literally exists outside my body and just crawls around every day as a tiny clone of myself and my husband. It is the most vulnerable you can feel. Parenthood reduces us all to (silly) putty on the floor. And I was a touchy-feely person to begin with. While thankfully, I have still managed to maintain my wit and sarcastic edge, I just love feelings! Are you gagging yet? Good.
There are so many fears that run through a woman’s head when she pees on that stick and the second line appears. Or maybe you were one of those fancy people where it actually said PREGNANT, because Geometry and parallel lines just weren’t ever your thing. Do you become a mother and completely change your identity? Do I need to start only wearing Winnie the Pooh sweatshirts and dance non-ironically to Raffi? Absolutely not, I’m not cut out to be a kindergarten teacher. My 21 year old cousin laughed at me the other day because my name on Instagram is Charlotte_Graces_Mom. Your identity does evolve, just like it does when you get married. Your conversations change, you buy fragrance and dye free laundry detergent, and you start carrying around so many bags of stuff people may confuse you with being homeless. But if you are truly lucky and dare I say doing it right, Mommyhood brings out your best self. I’ve found my happiest self in becoming a mother. My greatest moments with Charlotte are when I completely let go all control, smile, laugh and live with her right then in that moment. If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a thousand times. Her childhood will flash before my eyes and one day we'll blink and she will be a beautiful angsty teenager, horrified that I shared her pooping schedule with perfect strangers on the internet; so we’ll be in the right here and now if you need us.
My best mom self (in professional hair and make-up)