It’s been awhile, but I’m glad to be back for Season Two of So Called Mom!
I landed a sweet job, well, two sweet jobs and they have been both wonderful and complicated to say the least.
Wonderful: A whole world of opportunity has opened up. Travel! Work I love! A paycheck!
Complicated: I am still a mom of 7 kids who all have lives of their own….and it’s not getting easier.
Will I survive?
xo, So Called Mom
Towards the end of summer, my middle kid, MJ, expressed some big plans, in her usual way: quietly but with conviction.
Now that school is in full swing, she has shown me that these So-Called Plans are very much in the works.
When your child enters 6th grade, it raises no red flags of potential mother daughter disconnect–at least it didn’t for me. This is the age they’re still trying to figure out what is going on and how to fit in–without looking like they’re trying too hard. To them, you still pretty much know everything and are their greatest advocate. But 7th grade is a different story. They have crafted their own road map now, and it looks nothing like the one you gave them. They have it completely dialed, know the rough terrain and are willing to plow through it and all we can do is act like the back seat driver from here on out.
But I wondered how quickly MJ would develop this 7th grade mentality–for survival if anything else, because she was new to this middle school, neighborhood, city and state. Just add hormones and sudden self-awareness and I’ve got a whole new kid. And her summertime promises of I’m going to be popular and I’m going to make my own path had me eating out of her hand like a squirrel: Yes! Chomp chomp chomp! You got this! Chomp chomp!
However, she is quiet and a little quirky and until last week, kind of oblivious to her looks. And so, the intersection of popularity and making your own path tend to, well, never ever intersect. Until she got out her new road map and made some real adjustments and is in the process of figuring out how to navigate on her own.
The upside is that she has the entire school to herself this year. There are no siblings to relay unwanted stories up the food chain and she can try out new versions of herself without anyone reporting it to home base. She has complete authority to shape shift into whomever she wants, free from any of our judgement, which is great. I mean, it’s one thing to be the quiet middle child in a blended family with seven kids—it’s another thing to be the only one in your family with a new school as the center of your universe.
I have been checking out parenting books from the library like mad lately. I tend to flock to this information haven whenever I feel a developmental crisis coming on. I check out books with titles like “Are my kids on track?” and “Mothering with Courage” and really anything that has the word teenager in it. Like, my check out status has my librarian believing I’ve never done this before. These library binges for me are much like shopping when you’re hungry: Everything looks good. But, I’m not gonna lie, I’m awful at soaking up this information. Most of the time it doesn’t stick because it doesn’t apply. There are too many variables to consider (like having a big family), so I just use it as material to help me fall asleep at night and hope the rest of the words soak into my brain while I’m in La La Land. Well that and I just try to stay on the same road she’s on, even though she’s clearly signaled she’s in the passing lane.
Let me just say that sometimes, lessons from the middle child can be the most pleasant—even though we’re talking about another one of my tweens, transforming into a teen and dodging my childhood development desire for a pat on the back. But there’s still time to get this right! Even though I’m prepared to use my husband as a meat shield while another one of our kids turns 13, I’m working on indulging her perspective mid-metamorphosis.
The jump from tween to teen is a big one. It means leaving awkwardness behind and becoming mindful of making a place for yourself in the world. It also means suddenly caring about how you might look to others. This is a complex stage because I always want my kids to just be themselves, to not feel as though they need to conform. This is how we make the world a different and more forgiving place. But I’m just now learning that it’s just as important for them to try out other versions of themselves, knowing that this is who they are. I’m just happy to still play a part, even if it’s in the smallest of ways.
So Called Mom
Remember this? Working on science fair projects while cleaning pasta sauce off the kitchen ceiling, balancing a gnarly diaper in one hand and a smelly baby in the other, running to answer the door because the electrical guy needs access to the breaker box (wherever that is) while the doctor’s office is calling to reschedule the appointment you’d forgotten about anyway? That was me last year. This year? Not so much, and I’m kind of weirded out by it.
Those were the days when we’d get through it all by sucking down wine at the end of the night and hopefully stealing a late night soak in the tub to wash it all (including that baby poop smell) down the drain. We’d let our minds sneak off to that place that we fondly recall as the days before we had kids…
Well, now that every last one of the kids is in school, we have free time again. And although it’s different now, and there’s really no getting back to that pre-kids place, do we know what the hell to do with ourselves? I don’t. And I didn’t prepare for it either.
What is it about being a mom that keeps us laser focused on everything else but ourselves? In the meantime, we’ve forgotten who we are as beautiful women, as a person with a passion, and a human being who makes mistakes. But in the process of being a perfect mom who balances the universe on our shoulders, never letting our kids down, we’re letting ourselves down and running ourselves into the ground–albeit with a (forced) smile on our face.
The worst part? No one really asks this of us. We just voluntarily throw ourselves off the cliff like lemmings, landing face-first and resentful as this weeks trending mom-martyr. And so, when life presents us crowns us with a bundle of free time each day, we sort of let it eat us alive, rather than the other way around. At least that is how I have felt the first couple of weeks have been since back-to-school surprised me with this awkward emptiness. I have not dominated my use of free time. It has knocked me out and I’m trying to get up gracefully, like it never happened.
So, check out the video above, where I detail five ways us So-Called Moms can get our groove back. If you have something to add, please do so by plugging your ideas into the comments below; I’d love to know what you do to make the most out of your time.
Have the most fabulous weekend ever,
So-Called Mom
I set out to conduct this interview with my middle kid, MJ, who always seems to get lost in the shuffle. And I stumbled through what I would ask her: in my head, on paper, up at night when I couldn’t sleep–you name it. I realized I was missing the point of her speaking about strong girls because I was so caught up in the message and worried she wouldn’t have anything to say about it. Or worse, would show my camera, me and the entire world that she wasn’t strong (gasp). Or that she hadn’t thought about it. Because, ehhh, well she is a pretty quiet kid.
But she showed me otherwise. And it wasn’t until she was paddling around, waiting for the others to swim away, that she just outright came to me with who she was and what she was after. I spent several days floundering over how to even bring the subject up–and here she was dishing it out, exactly her way. Soft spoken. Tiny. And super sure of herself. All I had to do was listen. And learn to be there for her more. And quit trying to put a name to who or what she is. She is MJ, and that’s that.
Back when I used to attempt corporate career momlife (haha), I went to a team building event. It was all about how extroverts (like me) and introverts (like MJ) can work together. Extroverts stereotypically like to talk and talk and talk and overshare even if you didn’t ask. Introverts stereotypically like to keep to themselves, are shy and have nothing to say or contribute.
MJ is a good exercise in the art of me shutting up. And of not worrying about her anymore–because I shouldn’t, she’s got this. She is the exact opposite of what you’d assume strength to be–stereotypically: She’s like 10 lbs soaking wet. She’s long and lean like a string bean. She keeps a detailed journal jammed under her mattress and she reads books that are thousands of pages long. She has an obsession with mechanical pencils. Quiet indeed–UNTIL she opens her mouth and her brain starts showing me up. Which is exactly what I love about her.
So-Called Mom
This week I announced we are sending 17-year-old Jake on a 2 week Outward Bound trip. As much as I hate to admit it, there is so much that bothers me about this trip that I can’t believe I am paying this much cash for this level of (good for you in a sick way) torture. This adventure has become step one to sending Jake out of the nest, but there are so many nuances that I’m hesitant I’m doing any of it right. Jake is my first kid. I had him young and for awhile it was just us going through life together. And I’m totally guilty for hanging onto that “just us” notion for far too long.
That’s embarrassing to admit, but it is what it is. At this point I’m assuming his teen to adult transition is harder on me than it is on him–but isn’t that the way it always is? The more I think about what bugs me, the more I discover that I have just as much to learn as he does. The best part is that Outward Bound is teaching both of us so much already. Torture indeed: It would be so much easier to just keep on helicopter-momming and not change along side him. But that’s not who I am–or at least who I want to be.
After my interview with Jake, I realized that I had a problem with him thinking that he can just summit a mountain with no training. I couldn’t get over his nonchalance with being thrown to the wolves in his interview below. But at the same time, I had to flip this annoyance around on myself. Would I want him to be too scared to go? Definitely not–but the mom in me is shouting: you can’t do this without being ready! While the teenager in him is replying watch me.
Well, Isn’t that what I signed him up for?
Of course it is. But it doesn’t take away the little things that will undoubtedly come up right up until he goes. I’m a little irked because he acts as if this whole gig is for him to prove something to me. He apparently already knows he will make it. He already knows everything there is to know about the outdoors and survival–in life and in the wild. The best thing I can do is let him prove that to himself out there.
I’m learning that it isn’t the act of pushing my kids out of the nest that hurts. It’s not the separation or the worry of emptiness over the missing kid in your house. Nor is it the terror in pushing them out and watching them potentially plummet to the ground, hereby demonstrating years of parenting failures. The real pain comes from realizing that he left long ago, and hasn’t needed me for years. And maybe worse still, that I’ve been doing things without the awareness that I’m not helping him “adult” at all. So then, my Outward Bound assignment is to continue to acknowledge that if he says he can, he can–and that if he can’t, well then, it’s up to him to find out.
I think it’s every moms dream for their child to have this very clear-cut transition point from teen to adulthood. We see what only looks like success all around us: graduating at the top of their high school class, sports scholarships, Ivy league, great job, kids of their own, a happy spouse and a nice spacious home. But the truth is, it’s not straightforward at all. And that is only surface level success. It is the success that we want for them because ultimately it reflects on us–alas, we’re great parents.
But when I think about it in the context of Jake, I have no idea what success looks like for him. All I can do is show him what it might look like–high up and overcoming fears on a glacier, for instance.
Despite the push and pull of these transitional parenting challenges, I’m not giving up. My ultimate goal is to raise this kid into a healthy adult human who cares about himself and sees the value in what he can contribute. That means however he gets there, his own way, will be the best way.
Onward and Upward,
So-Called Mom
Like all mom bloggers, I have a love-hate relationship with my blog. I think my particular case of this polarity is due to the nature of how much it keeps me accountable: I appreciate the reminder to follow through on what I’ve been promising so I can become a better So-Called Mom–but my old habits like to dig their heels in like a toddler who won’t get into his own bed at night. It is an adventure and of itself.
As a such, I have decided to address my helicopter mom issues full-steam-ahead with my 17-year-old son Jake. How? Well, I’ve decided to send him on a two week Outward Bound adventure.
Wait–will he survive? Of course he will survive! But I’ve turned into a wreck all of a sudden, and I’m only at the point where I’m filling out paperwork. So unfortunately (and as predicted with my horrible heli-habits), I’ve made the conversation about me and whether or not I can survive Jake’s Outward Bound adventure. So here I am, vowing to keep myself in check all summer because if he even detects a sliver of anticipation from me, it’s over. Oh yeah, and also: I’d be flushing a bucket of money down the drain.
Step one is to complete that paperwork: signed, sealed, delivered. Step two is to talk about getting into physical, mental and emotional shape with Jake–and actually following through with it. Lucky for him, I’ve had a personal trainer for a few weeks already, so he can follow my lead. Hey I know that’s probably more embarrassing than ideal, but I can’t let him go it alone for this part. He does need to be able to summit a glacier after all. The good news is, this kid already has a built-in love for the outdoors. Who knows, maybe this experience will lead him down a previously undiscovered career path? Fingers crossed.
This will be an adventure for us both and even though I’m (shhhhhh) terrified, I’m also very excited to see the outcome: An adult who is not only ready for his last year in high school, but excited and motivated by his own potential to life a fulfilling life. I promise to document our stages, trials and tribulations as we make our way to the finish line.
Pinecones & Needles,
So-Called Mom
So this next part is going to be hard. It means backing off of my instinctive responses and keeping my pain to myself. I get this about letting them fail. But maybe I’m afraid of failing myself? Do other moms also share that?
Please say yes,
So-Called Mom