Motherhood has completely consumed my life, chewed it up, and spat it out. Not exactly the prettiest picture, but hey, that’s my reality.
I adore my son and daughter with every fiber of my being, yet in this whirlwind, the things that used to light me up have dimmed considerably. Staying at home this year has been a real challenge—like, really tough. My days blend into one another, and I find myself eagerly awaiting my partner’s return from work, a longing that’s hard to admit. It’s painful to see other moms seemingly thriving, and let’s be honest, comparison isn’t exactly a friend.
Springtime in the windy High Plains of Colorado made it tough to leave the house. When the weather isn’t cooperating, indoor play options are limited, and I start to feel a bit stir-crazy.
One afternoon, after nap time, I decided it was time to hit the store. As I changed my son’s clothes, he looked at me and asked, “Why are we putting on clothes? Where are we going?” Oh boy. Clearly, he knows we often stay in our pajamas unless there’s a public appearance. Cue the mom shame.
I attempted to explain that we wear clothes even when we’re not going anywhere special, but he was having none of it. “But where are we goooing?”
“Just to the store,” I confessed.
Suddenly, his face lit up like I’d just announced a trip to the moon. “Can I get a sucker?” he asked, and I couldn’t help but smile.
For him, the highlight of our grocery trips is that little Dum Dums pop from the cashier. His infectious enthusiasm for running errands is heartwarming, and he loves to regale the clerk with tales about our shopping haul.
“Look, this is like a volcano when it opens!” he exclaims, shaking my sparkling water. The cashier chuckles, clearly entertained by my little scientist in action, as he demonstrates an eruption with sound effects. Of course, he chooses the root beer flavor—adventurous little guy! His simple joy is truly divine, and he’s always bursting with questions about the world around him.
Yet, I often feel the pressure to do more to nurture his curiosity. The teacher in me insists on challenging him and exposing him to new experiences. However, creativity is in short supply for me right now. I once prided myself on being a creative soul, and I thought that motherhood would allow me to thrive in this area. Turns out, I was mistaken.
After discussing it with my partner, I realized that to nourish my children’s creativity, I first need to reignite my own. It’s like the flight attendant’s advice: put your oxygen mask on before assisting others. If I can light a spark of enthusiasm within myself, it might just make me a better mom. And honestly, isn’t my own joy worth pursuing too?
So here’s my revamped motherhood mission statement: I will carve out time each week to create and learn, or learn through the act of creating. Whether it’s writing, diving into visual art, or maybe even interpretive dance, I want to embrace life with the same excitement my toddler shows when he talks about volcanoes.
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In summary, my mission is to revitalize my creativity so I can be the best version of myself for my children. After all, a vibrant mom leads to a vibrant family.