Motherhood has enveloped my existence, reshaping it in ways I never anticipated. While that imagery might not be the most appealing, it reflects my reality. My love for my children, Alex and Mia, is profound, yet I often find that the aspects of life that once ignited my spirit have faded. This past year of staying home has been an intense challenge—one that has blurred the lines of my daily routine.
As I count down the moments until my partner returns from work, I grapple with feelings that are tough to confront. Observing other mothers seemingly thrive in their roles can be disheartening, and the urge to compare myself is ever-present.
During a particularly windy spring in Colorado, venturing out became a daunting task. The unpredictable weather often confined us indoors, and with limited places for the kids to expend their energy, I began to feel restless. One afternoon, after nap time, I needed to make a trip to the store. As I dressed my son, he curiously asked, “Why are we putting on clothes? Where are we going?”
It struck me then that he had grown accustomed to our cozy, pajama-clad days. Oh, the familiar pang of “mom shame” washed over me. Despite my attempts to explain that clothes were necessary even when we weren’t heading anywhere special, he remained dubious. “But where are we goooing?” he persisted.
“To the store,” I finally admitted. His eyes sparkled as if I had promised him a ride in a spaceship. “Can I get a sucker?” he eagerly inquired. “Of course,” I replied, smiling at his uncomplicated joy. The highlight of his day often revolves around the small pleasures, like the Dum Dums he eagerly selects from the cashier.
As he animatedly describes our purchases to the cashier, mimicking a volcano erupting when I open a sparkling water bottle, I can’t help but feel both proud and nostalgic. His unabashed curiosity and zest for life remind me of the importance of fostering creativity in both him and myself.
Yet, the weight of motherhood sometimes feels heavy, and I often question if I’m doing enough to nurture his inquisitive nature. The educator in me feels a responsibility to challenge his intellect, but I frequently find my own creativity depleted. I always envisioned that my imaginative side would shine brightly in motherhood, yet that hasn’t been the case.
After discussing my feelings with my partner, I realized that to truly support my children’s creativity, I need to nurture my own. Much like the flight attendant’s advice to put on your oxygen mask before assisting others, I must reignite my passion for life to be the best mother I can be. And if that spark doesn’t directly enhance my parenting, isn’t my own joy worth pursuing?
Thus, I’ve crafted a new motherhood mission statement: I will dedicate time each week to explore creative endeavors—be it writing, art, or even dance. I aspire to approach life with the same enthusiasm as a toddler witnesses a volcano erupting.
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In summary, embracing motherhood is a journey filled with challenges and joys. By prioritizing my own creativity and enthusiasm, I can cultivate a more vibrant life for both myself and my children.