#Nakedmoms Motherhood and Growing

It’s a funny thing to be “grown”. Do you ever feel it too? Adultish-ness creeping in to all of your cracks, making you different. Where did kid-you go if adult-you hasn’t yet arrived? What do you call yourself? Do you think “who am I, really?”

You pay a bill and vaguely wonder about your mother paying the same bill every month for your entire memorable life. Am I grown up? How many showers did we take to make the water bill jump so high? My Dad used to worry about the water. I sit and squint late at night after almost all the ceiling bulbs have burned out- too lazy to get around to changing them. I realize I didn’t often notice light bulbs out as a kid. Dad- a real grown up- must have changed them. Promptly, like real adults do.

I don’t do anything promptly. Two little people always need me. Every breathe of every moment revolves around what they need from me. While I’m still very much feeling needy for my own Mom. I chatter with the kids for hours and try to remember if Mom’s at work yet or not. I could call. I always call. I can’t be a real adult without Mom.

The toilet is running. The disposal is clogged. The blinds are dusty. How do the blinds always get so dusty? Who cares? I saw another mouse in the basement- or was that a mole? I didn’t even jump this time, just watched the little thing scurry into the dark corner where the holes are. I wish a real adult would come handle these things. Take care of me. But wait. Husband is a real adult, right? Yes! He will handle things. I don’t have to grow up just yet- he is here to help. Husband can grow first, then me. Me next. …or maybe me last. That would be fine.

I watch my kids play. They grow so fast. Not growing up exactly, but growing. I think that an adult might arrange their toys in a more organized manner. Playing princess shouldn’t mean dumping every toy bin in search of the proper cast of characters. But we clean up for the 19th time of the morning by slopping all the toys back wherever they fit. And even though they all came out, they sometimes don’t all fit back in. And that makes you feel angry about too much crap. Adults don’t like too much crap.

We lay around being tigers. The girls jump on my stomach and lick my cheek. Maybe I should be more dignified. We scream and laugh, I tickle the girls until they pee. But I better settle us down. Set some boundaries. Adults have boundaries. But boundaries are for the birds. Or at least for adults. Am I either of those?

Who knew you could (or would need to) wash the vacuum??

Who knew various mysterious boxes in the basement beeped in need of fresh batteries?

Who knew it was so hard to feed people three meals a day (plus snacks, So. Many. Snacks.)?

Who knew car oil had to be changed so often or that clocks fell behind or forward or that washing machines could just up and break? With no notice at all? So inconsiderate- this adult life.

Adults know these things, though. Adults know the secret adult handbook of the universe- offering insight and wisdom. Mom knows what to do. Dad knows what to do. But I’m a Mom and Husband is a Dad and sometimes we are still so ignorant about the “what to do” chapters of the adult handbook. The cliff notes must not have cut it for us.

So we carry on. We make decisions like we are playing house and we fake it til it sticks. Someday we will be “adults” but that day is not today. Until then we will be convincing. But we’ll also shrug knowing we might do better, be better, once we are grown up. We sigh and decide not to worry. We pretend and we wait. We decide to let ourselves be kids just awhile longer. We decide not to grow up, not for real anyway. We’ll never be real adults after all. But the impossibleness of that thought is heavy like a chain. We might never get it right if we never grow up.

So we carry on. We grow little by little in an immeasurable way until we can mark our change in height on a growth chart. Surprise! You did grow up! Just a little. Just a tiny bit. Huh, you think. I’m proud, you think. We can do this, you think.

Eventually.

**I am honored to be writing this post in conjunction with 12 wonderfully talented writers willing to share their nitty gritty thoughts on motherhood. Each month we interpret a common theme and share our work with you via the hashtag #NakedMoms. We aren’t actually naked 😉 (sorry!) but we are bearing our souls here on our blogs. Kind or constructive (even argumentative or opinionated!) comments are always appreciated but negative or hurtful ones need not be expressed here. We are in the business of lifting up and supporting other women with our writing as we weave a web of stories and anecdotes from our past, present and future Mommy selves.  We hope you enjoy the series and share the stories you love with your own circle of Mom’s- whomever they may be. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.**

xo

J

All March posts from the #NakedMoms will soon be linked below. Stop back later, grab your mug and get ready to enjoy some great reads. Thanks ladies!