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Accepting That This Is The Mom I Became

by Ivy B

It’s time I begin accepting the mom I became instead of focusing on the kind of mom I’d hoped to be.   Sharing some encouragement for moms who need to accept that the version of themselves as a mom doesn’t always stack up to what they envisioned.  And, IT’S OKAY!

What prompted this realization?

All this time, I had it wrong about myself.  I claim I didn’t recognize myself after having my first born.  I’ve whined about it more than a few times.  I’m coming clean about it because it’s good to admit some dark secrets sometimes.

Admitting that parenthood isn’t all rainbows and sunshine can be scary.  Some people can really make you feel down on yourself for admitting these things.  And, if you’re like most moms, you’re already down on yourself about one thing or other.  In some way(s), you’ve beaten yourself up today over something you’ve perceived at failing at in motherhood.  I know because I do this a lot.  Negative self-talk.

I totally forgot my daughter’s snack.  What kind of mother does that?

I can’t believe I haven’t sent a healthier meal in her lunchbox.  I’ve been reduced to pre-packaged foods so far this year.

I rarely cook in the kitchen with my kids and I don’t enjoy it when I do.

I always love finding crafts on Pinterest, but I never do them because they’re too time consuming/messy/expensive.

I wish I were “that” mom.

A blogging friend of mine recently did a Facebook Live that really struck a chord for me.  She simply said “be the kind of mom you are.”

Accepting the mom I became instead of focusing on not being the mom I thought I'd be. A lesson in acceptance and self-love for who I am, being the kind of mom I am, and not trying to be the kind of mom I'm not. When motherhood isn't what you expected | www.sahmplus.com
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Her video was more detailed than that, but those words were all I needed to hear that day.

“Be the kind of mom you are.”

 
Damn, Jill.  You’re so freaking right!  Why is it taking me 6 years to realize everything I want to be (or think I should be) isn’t who I really am?

The Mom I Thought I’d be

In my early years, before being married and having kids, I had visions of who I would be and what my family would be like.  I’d always imagined a houseful of boys.  And, I figured I’d have energy for all the shenanigans.

I wanted 4 children.  I always saw myself as a mother of boys.  I never pictured girls.

I’d imagined being a patient, tolerant, fun mom.

I assumed I’d always be in the kitchen baking with the kids.

I’d want to take annual family vacations.

Sometimes I’d even considered being a homeschooling mom.  You know, because I’d have all that patience.

Surely, I was going to be a good mom.  One that does all the things, putting herself on the back burner without a second thought.

The Kind of Mom I Actually Am

Nothing I envisioned came to fruition.  Life is mostly not how I pictured it.  It’s not all bad, it’s just different.  I need to begin accepting the mom I became vs the kind of mom I thought I’d be.

I had a daughter first and had no idea what I’d do with a girl.

Shortly after her birth, I became ill.  I struggled with Hashimoto’s and late onset food allergies and intolerances.

I spent the better part her 5 years questioning whether or not I should have more children.

I had another child, a boy.  Oddly enough, I felt as clueless with a boy as I thought I was with a girl.

Both of my children were born high-needs babies.  I don’t enjoy the baby years and I have determined 2 children is more than enough.

I’m always tired.

I have no patience.

I crave peace, quiet, and alone time.

I’m certain I’m not cut out for homeschooling, though I’d do it if it were necessary.

I can’t stand cooking in the kitchen with the kids.

I curse like a sailor and I could seriously use a swear jar.  Although I may cuss it out as I toss it in the trash.

I need more time away from my kids than I take.  My once a month racing Autocross hobby isn’t enough alone time.  And, it’s certainly not the down-time I need to reboot.

I’m the kind of mom who can’t neglect herself, otherwise the whole family feels the pain.

Accepting the Mom I Became

The truth is, I probably needed to have my head examined before I became a mom.  Or a serious dose of reality.  I mean, people tried to tell me raising kids was hard, but there was no way for me to fully understand it.  Now that I’m living it, I know there’s no way for them to have explained it to me.

I never asked for an illness to creep into my life just when I’m figuring how how to be a mother for the first time.  Perhaps that’s what has me down about myself most of the time.  I never got to experience motherhood in a “normal” capacity.

But, thanks to Jill’s Facebook live, I’ve had a wake up call.  I have got to get better about accepting the mom I became vs the mom I thought I would be.

I have to accept that normal only means my normal.  Whatever normal looks like for another mom isn’t going to ever be the same for me.

This is me accepting the mom I became:

I’m fighting to make it through the day.

Sometimes I’m fighting through the days to stay afloat.

I’m not the mom I thought I would be.

am the mom life has conditioned me to be.

I am kind of a badass that doesn’t really fit into the traditional stay at home mom role.

I need more quiet time than I could have ever imagined.

I will continue pushing myself to try new things, but still accept I am who I am and some things aren’t made for me.

am a good mom, it just looks differently than I’d expected, and I need to let go of those visions I had.

This is me starting my journey of accepting the mom I became.

Tell me in the comments:  Do you ever think you wish you could be some other kind of mom?  Do you struggle to accept the mom you became?

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Laura Dennis January 15, 2018 - 5:07 pm

My kids are 22, 19, and 16. I adore them and (I think) they adore me. I made a million mistakes while they were growing up. Everything from turning my firstborn orange because I let him eat only sweet potato and carrot baby foods (because they were the only ones he liked) to sending the same child into a bad housing situation his junior year in college. Apologize when you need to and laugh through the tears. In the end, just make sure they know how much you love them.

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