It’s 8:46am and I’ve already been asked to look up the names of all the My Little Pony characters, to watch computer videos, to “look at this bunny”, to build a Lego lion, to toast a bagel with cream cheese but “not yet, I’m not ready”, to go to the beach, and to help color in some flower petals with markers. The asks don’t ever stop.
Relentless is the best word I can conjure to describe what being a mother is. It’s better than saying “it’s the hardest job” (even though it is) because that implies it’s only hard and nothing else. It’s better than saying “it’s the most rewarding job” (even though it is) because that implies there are rewards earned every day (there are not). And it’s better than saying “it’s the best job” because that implies it’s only good and nothing else (it definitely is not). According to Merriam Webster, the word relentless is defined as “showing or promising no abatement of severity, intensity, strength or pace”. That, to me, is motherhood in a nutshell. It’s not a negative word, but it’s not a positive one either. Both the bad and good happen every day, all the time, one after the other, on a never-ending loop.
I have only one child. I will probably only ever have one child. I imagine having one child is easier than having two or three, but it’s also harder than having two or three in some ways. There is no one for her to play with (which she reminds me of almost every day) and so she relies on mom + dad for all her entertainment needs. But I don’t have to referee sharing fights and screaming matches. Fostering independent play—play without grown-up involvement—is easier said than done. She has no one to escape with, and teaching her how to escape with just herself and her toys is a hard sell. But we talk. A lot. She often uses words that are beyond her age and I know it’s because other than school, she spends all of her time with two grown ups (one of which is a word nerd). I imagine these verbal skills will come in handy down the road. I tell myself it’s one of the benefits of it being just her and I, of her being my only. But I digress…
For a long time there was a small, nagging part of me that said I was slightly less than a full, real mom because I only have one child. That voice would tell me that since I only have one child I do less, I have less to worry about, that there’s less on my plate. It said you have it easy, you’re barely doing anything. It said you only have one, how hard could it be? I had many days where I listened to it, let it get in my head. There were many times where I had the urge to complain to a mom friend (the way mom friends do), but I held back, convincing myself that they’d be rolling their eyes, their inner dialogue saying but you only have one, you have it so easy. I convinced myself they didn’t think of me as a real mom either.
Naturally that line of thinking is ridiculous, mostly. Having more kids does mean more responsibility, of course, but having “only” one kid is no walk in the park. It’s not one or the other, not black or white. Both can be true. The grass might always look greener, when it comes to the lawn of motherhood, but it’s not. Because motherhood, in all its forms and iterations, is a burden and a blessing. It’s big love and blind rage. It’s bumps and bruises and Babybel cheese. It’s ballet classes, bedtime stories and Bluey on repeat so many times you can recite the episodes by heart. It’s balled up fists while balling your eyes out. It’s finding boxes of raisins in every bag you own. It’s locking the bathroom door so you can have five minutes of peace. It’s both good and bad, happy and sad. It’s a giant mirror held up to your most inner self reflected back at you whether you like it or not. Sometimes when my daughter laughs, her eyes get small and squinty and I have an out-of-body moment where it’s like I’m looking at myself when I was a little girl. Motherhood is re-mothering your inner child. It’s trippy, man.
So as someone who has felt like less of a woman thanks to my struggles with fertility, and less of a mom thanks to having only one child, I’m here to tell you: no one but YOU should decide what being a mom is. How you mother is up to YOU. Why you became a mother is up to YOU to decide. No matter what path you traveled to get there, if you are in charge of keeping a small human alive YOU are a mother. And, above all, when you become a mother should always and forever happen when YOU decide you’re ready. Full stop.
Happy Mother’s Day,
Cris, you’re older sister
Hi, It's Your Older Sister
So beautiful ❤️ Happy Mother’s Day!!
Happy Mother's Day to all of us that choose when, how and with whom to become a parent.