Sunday, May 12, 2013
Being a mom is like being a lottery winner.
Being a mom is like being a chauffeur, a chef, a maid, a referee, a doctor, a therapist, a dietician, a musician, an actor, a teacher, search and rescue, a spy, and sometimes a prisoner of war...you name it, a mom does it. But most of all, being a mom is like being a lottery winner every day. Yes, there are bad days, but there are also good days, and I wouldn't trade this wonderful gift called motherhood for all the money in the world. I feel pretty darn lucky to have three handsome, smart, funny, kind, loving, often mischievous little boys to call my own. Every day, good or bad, there is a new adventure. Every day I get to see the world through new eyes. The world is scarier and prettier. There is laughter and tears; frustration and heartaches; and most of all, overwhelming joy. I love when my kiss is the only thing that can make an owie stop hurting. I love when I have little arms wrapped around my neck and when I get slobbery kisses. I love when my little boys run across the room with their arms outstretched so happy to see me. I love watching my baby sleep nestled in my arms. My heart almost breaks with overwhelming love when I hear a little voice say, "Mommy I love you soooooooo much." Being a mom is like taking all of the hard things and all of the good things in life and mushing and knotting it all together into a giant, tangled ball of gooey, sticky wonder and adventure. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world!
Saturday, May 11, 2013
PITSD--a more serious post
Today I've decided to share some thoughts that I generally don't really even say out loud. Be aware that there's going to be a lot of soul pouring in the post and probably a lot of rambling! Here it goes: I have PITSD--Post Infertility Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've made up the name, but I know it has to be a real thing (btw, I'm not mocking or taking PTSD lightly). I usually don't notice it too much, except at certain times, like Mother's Day. For a long time, Mother's Day was not a happy day for me. It was actually a very painful, heart breaking day for me. When dealing with infertility, Mother's Day is not a day to look forward to. I would try to focus on showing my love and appreciation for my amazing mother and mother-in-law and all of the other awesome women in my life, but it was still difficult. Listening to the children sing songs to their mothers at church would bring lots of sobbing and mascara smeared across my face. Some years I did better than others, but some years were very dark.
But now I have children. I am finally a mom. Still, I sometimes feel this hesitation to really enjoy Mother's Day, like, am I really allowed this wonderful thing? I am also very aware that there are so many women who are dealing with infertility, miscarriage, death of a child, death of their mother, and so many other things that make this day so hard to face. I know some of that pain. I feel torn because I want to celebrate being a mother because I am so happy and blessed to be one. And yet, I want to do something to show these struggling women how much they are loved and that they are in my thoughts and prayers. I want to join the group of moms and cry and laugh about the struggles of every day motherhood, and I want to join the group of women struggling and crying. I want to hug each of them, and if I could I would show them my heart and say, "See I have those scars on my heart too, but I made it, and you will too. You can do this, and you are not alone."
When you have PITSD, it is difficult to not always be waiting for the rug to be pulled out from underneath you. When I found out that I was pregnant for the first time, I spent the first month or two really trying to convince myself that it was really a baby and not a tumor that my body had somehow misunderstood to be a baby. I worried and fretted the entire pregnancy that something was going to go wrong. I just couldn't believe that something that good was really happening for me. Once my husband was out later than I had anticipated, and I couldn't get a hold of him. I was so sure that he was dead because I was pregnant and so something bad had to happen. Well, thankfully, he was fine. The baby was fine. And now I have three handsome, wonderful little boys. I am so truly blessed in my life, but if I'm not careful, sometimes the anticipation of something bad happening will creep back in. But I have to just keep telling myself that there are plenty of bad things that can happen in life, but there are also many more good things that happen every day. And when the bad things happen, I will get through them with the Lord's help. For now, I'm just going to live and enjoy every minute of this wonderful life that is mine.
Another effect of PITSD is the overwhelming feeling that you must be a perfect parent. I sometimes put too much pressure on myself because I couldn't have children for five years. For five years, I obsessed over how much I wanted to be a mother. Sometimes I feel like I should be better because of those earlier struggles, like more is expected of me, because I wanted it so badly, as though it would be ungrateful to not do everything perfectly. I remember before I had children how much I hated when mothers would make flippant comments about wanting to get rid of their children. Occasionally, a mother would say something like, "You want kids? Here take little Timmy. He's driving me crazy." And I would get so mad because how dare this mother throw it in my face that she could have children and I couldn't. Now I understand a little better what that mother was going through. There have been a few times when I have threatened my children that I'm going to sell them to the zoo to live with the monkeys or to a traveling band of gypsies. And then I feel really guilty because how dare I think such things? I wanted children so badly for so long, I better love every minute of motherhood, right? I am slowly learning that infertility didn't up the requirements for me. All of us go through different struggles. If someone has cancer and beats it, do I expect them to now be a saint? No, of course not. We're all human, and I need to allow myself to be human too.
Anyway, I hope tomorrow that I can somehow help all the women around me know how amazing they are. As a mother, I am realizing more and more that it really does take a village to raise a child. My sons are so blessed to have wonderful grandmothers, aunts, cousins, an AWESOME nanny, amazing friends, and teachers helping them and caring for them. Women are like aspen trees. Aspen trees share a root system which gives them strength to endure the roughest of weather and gives them the nourishment they need to grow and strive in the hardest of conditions such as drought or long, cold winters. The largest root system is a cluster of Aspen trees in Utah that covers roughly 106 acres. As women, the more we reach out to one another, the more strength we have and the more good we can do as a collective power for good. The winds of adversity can't shake me or my little saplings because I have the strength of my sisters. I want to do more to contribute to that sisterhood and strengthen and encourage the women around me. So, sister reading this, know that no matter where you are in life or what you're going through, you are AMAZING and TREMENDOUS and 100% AWESOME! Thank you for all that you do. And I hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow--you deserve it!
But now I have children. I am finally a mom. Still, I sometimes feel this hesitation to really enjoy Mother's Day, like, am I really allowed this wonderful thing? I am also very aware that there are so many women who are dealing with infertility, miscarriage, death of a child, death of their mother, and so many other things that make this day so hard to face. I know some of that pain. I feel torn because I want to celebrate being a mother because I am so happy and blessed to be one. And yet, I want to do something to show these struggling women how much they are loved and that they are in my thoughts and prayers. I want to join the group of moms and cry and laugh about the struggles of every day motherhood, and I want to join the group of women struggling and crying. I want to hug each of them, and if I could I would show them my heart and say, "See I have those scars on my heart too, but I made it, and you will too. You can do this, and you are not alone."
When you have PITSD, it is difficult to not always be waiting for the rug to be pulled out from underneath you. When I found out that I was pregnant for the first time, I spent the first month or two really trying to convince myself that it was really a baby and not a tumor that my body had somehow misunderstood to be a baby. I worried and fretted the entire pregnancy that something was going to go wrong. I just couldn't believe that something that good was really happening for me. Once my husband was out later than I had anticipated, and I couldn't get a hold of him. I was so sure that he was dead because I was pregnant and so something bad had to happen. Well, thankfully, he was fine. The baby was fine. And now I have three handsome, wonderful little boys. I am so truly blessed in my life, but if I'm not careful, sometimes the anticipation of something bad happening will creep back in. But I have to just keep telling myself that there are plenty of bad things that can happen in life, but there are also many more good things that happen every day. And when the bad things happen, I will get through them with the Lord's help. For now, I'm just going to live and enjoy every minute of this wonderful life that is mine.
Another effect of PITSD is the overwhelming feeling that you must be a perfect parent. I sometimes put too much pressure on myself because I couldn't have children for five years. For five years, I obsessed over how much I wanted to be a mother. Sometimes I feel like I should be better because of those earlier struggles, like more is expected of me, because I wanted it so badly, as though it would be ungrateful to not do everything perfectly. I remember before I had children how much I hated when mothers would make flippant comments about wanting to get rid of their children. Occasionally, a mother would say something like, "You want kids? Here take little Timmy. He's driving me crazy." And I would get so mad because how dare this mother throw it in my face that she could have children and I couldn't. Now I understand a little better what that mother was going through. There have been a few times when I have threatened my children that I'm going to sell them to the zoo to live with the monkeys or to a traveling band of gypsies. And then I feel really guilty because how dare I think such things? I wanted children so badly for so long, I better love every minute of motherhood, right? I am slowly learning that infertility didn't up the requirements for me. All of us go through different struggles. If someone has cancer and beats it, do I expect them to now be a saint? No, of course not. We're all human, and I need to allow myself to be human too.
Anyway, I hope tomorrow that I can somehow help all the women around me know how amazing they are. As a mother, I am realizing more and more that it really does take a village to raise a child. My sons are so blessed to have wonderful grandmothers, aunts, cousins, an AWESOME nanny, amazing friends, and teachers helping them and caring for them. Women are like aspen trees. Aspen trees share a root system which gives them strength to endure the roughest of weather and gives them the nourishment they need to grow and strive in the hardest of conditions such as drought or long, cold winters. The largest root system is a cluster of Aspen trees in Utah that covers roughly 106 acres. As women, the more we reach out to one another, the more strength we have and the more good we can do as a collective power for good. The winds of adversity can't shake me or my little saplings because I have the strength of my sisters. I want to do more to contribute to that sisterhood and strengthen and encourage the women around me. So, sister reading this, know that no matter where you are in life or what you're going through, you are AMAZING and TREMENDOUS and 100% AWESOME! Thank you for all that you do. And I hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow--you deserve it!
Being a mom is like being a supermodel.
Being a mom is like being a supermodel...ha ha, just kidding. Actually it's the exact opposite. I just couldn't think of what the opposite of a supermodel is. I remember taking my baby in for his three month check up and asking the doctor about this little rash he had. The doctor asked me if I was using a different soap or lotion on him. Nope. Was I using a different laundry detergent? Nope. Was I using a new soap, lotion, or perfume? That's when I realized what I was doing differently--I was finally able to take regular showers again!
The other day as I excitedly opened my brand new $4 mascara, I wondered to myself what those supermodel women think when they see women like me. I wonder if they think that I don't care or that I don't try. But I do try, I really do, but it is inevitable that I'm going to have spit up stains on my shoulders and crumbs stuck to my pants. On Sundays when I put the most effort toward my appearance, it lasts maybe five minutes. By the time we get to church, my hair is flying in different directions, my make-up has been perspired off, and my clothes are disheveled. It is the price I pay for wrestling three little alligators into dress clothes, getting them strapped into a van, and then getting them into the church on time (or as close to on time as we can get).
And I do try to exercise and take care of myself. But I still don't understand why all the scrubbing and vacuuming, kid lifting and kid hauling, kid chasing and silly dancing don't counterbalance the chocolate I eat through out the day to get me through the day. You just can't achieve the level of mothering that I do on celery alone, believe you me.
However, I am grateful that my boys don't care what I look like. Someday they will, and I can use that to my advantage. Yes, I will be the mother that will sit in the back of my son's classroom with my hair in curlers and wearing my best sweat suit if I catch wind of any of my boys misbehaving in class. I'm also very grateful that my husband still finds me attractive. I think he's crazy or maybe losing his sight, but I appreciate it nonetheless. He's a good man, and he has the ability to help me feel beautiful even after a long night with a teething baby. Love him so much!
Motherhood: I make this look HOT! =)
The other day as I excitedly opened my brand new $4 mascara, I wondered to myself what those supermodel women think when they see women like me. I wonder if they think that I don't care or that I don't try. But I do try, I really do, but it is inevitable that I'm going to have spit up stains on my shoulders and crumbs stuck to my pants. On Sundays when I put the most effort toward my appearance, it lasts maybe five minutes. By the time we get to church, my hair is flying in different directions, my make-up has been perspired off, and my clothes are disheveled. It is the price I pay for wrestling three little alligators into dress clothes, getting them strapped into a van, and then getting them into the church on time (or as close to on time as we can get).
And I do try to exercise and take care of myself. But I still don't understand why all the scrubbing and vacuuming, kid lifting and kid hauling, kid chasing and silly dancing don't counterbalance the chocolate I eat through out the day to get me through the day. You just can't achieve the level of mothering that I do on celery alone, believe you me.
However, I am grateful that my boys don't care what I look like. Someday they will, and I can use that to my advantage. Yes, I will be the mother that will sit in the back of my son's classroom with my hair in curlers and wearing my best sweat suit if I catch wind of any of my boys misbehaving in class. I'm also very grateful that my husband still finds me attractive. I think he's crazy or maybe losing his sight, but I appreciate it nonetheless. He's a good man, and he has the ability to help me feel beautiful even after a long night with a teething baby. Love him so much!
Friday, May 10, 2013
Being a mom is like being a politician.
There's campaigns to run (my campaign is JJ4MOTY--Jolene Jenkins 4 Mother of the Year) and babies to kiss every day. Yep, being a mom is a lot like being a politician. As a mom, I am always trying to keep my constituents happy, but there is always someone who isn't. I deliver grand speeches that no one really listens to, and I try to resolve complaints through out the day that never get resolved.
And like some politicians, I find myself constantly breaking promises that I once made. For example, before I had children, I made statements such as these:
I will never allow my children to eat junk food.
I will never let my children watch television until they are at least three, and then only a couple of hours each week.
I will never yell at my children.
I will never be that parent that has the wild children at church.
I will never become a frumpy mom who sometimes forgets to comb her hair.
I have discovered, since having children of my own, that 'never' is a very strong word. When I said "never", I meant occasionally...well, sometimes...well, no more than once a day...well...let's talk about something else, shall we?
And like some politicians, I find myself constantly breaking promises that I once made. For example, before I had children, I made statements such as these:
I will never allow my children to eat junk food.
I will never let my children watch television until they are at least three, and then only a couple of hours each week.
I will never yell at my children.
I will never be that parent that has the wild children at church.
I will never become a frumpy mom who sometimes forgets to comb her hair.
I have discovered, since having children of my own, that 'never' is a very strong word. When I said "never", I meant occasionally...well, sometimes...well, no more than once a day...well...let's talk about something else, shall we?
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The Mother of All Judging
So the other day, my good friend Heidi shared the following post from Love and Logic on my Fb:
"Moms…do you ever feel like the weight of the world is resting firmly on your shoulders? Do you ever feel like it's your job…YOUR JOB… to make sure that your kids always do the right thing and turn out well? Do you ever worry that the entire neighborhood is aware and judging you when your kids sneak out of the house with mismatched socks, messy hair and less-than-polite attitudes?
Oftentimes, the most loving and effective mothers take the most heat from others and themselves.
Wonderful moms understand that kids need to make plenty of small, affordable mistakes. They know that kids must experience occasional struggles and disappointments. They also know that constant rescuing or micromanaging just creates kids who need constant rescuing and micromanaging.
Because of this, the best moms often feel a bit lonely and unsure of themselves. They feel lonely because our society too frequently rewards what looks good rather than what is good. They feel lonely because they rarely overhear other mothers bragging about allowing their kids to learn by forgetting a lunch, misplacing an occasional homework paper, or having to pay for a lost coat.
The best moms often feel a bit lonely and unsure of themselves.
It's easy to feel guilty or insecure when you see so many "super hover mommies" acting like pack mules, carrying all of their children's sporting equipment, back packs and other responsibilities. It's easy to lose perspective when your minivan is the only one without an "Honor Student" bumper sticker. It's tempting to waver when the parents next door are working harder completing their child's homework than their child is.
On this Mother's Day holiday, I hope to encourage all of the wonderful mothers who let things fall apart from time to time…who understand the wisdom of providing a rather imperfect world for their kids. When you find yourself feeling insecure or guilty, listen to our audio, Helicopters, Drill Sergeants and Consultants, and be reminded that it's far better for our kids to submit a sloppy science fair project than them seeing us hunched over the kitchen table frantically doing it for them."
This got me thinking--a dangerous past time, I know (name that movie). I always look at Heidi and think what an amazing mom she is. Her kids eat their vegetables, are well-mannered and smart, her house is so clean, she makes her own bread, she's so organized, she has it all together, etc., etc. Then I look at myself and think what a terrible mom I am. My kids aren't really sure what vegetables are, they can throw some amazing tantrums, my house is a disaster zone, my life feels like chaos most days, etc., etc. I realize that I do this with most women I know. It is very easy for me to only see the wonderful things that other moms are doing and compare that to what I feel are my inadequacies. When I read this post by Heidi, I felt a little surprised. She feels this way too sometimes?! But she is an awesome mom! It never occurs to me that these super moms that I see all around me feel the same inadequacies and self-judgments as I do. Maybe when we think people are looking at us judging us, maybe, just maybe, they didn't even notice or think twice that my kids had McDonald's twice last week.
I'm realizing that when out in public, most moms try to put their best foot forward just like I do. It's not an act, per se, it's more of a fake it 'til you make it kind of thing. If I act like I have it all together when I take my children to story time at the library, then maybe one day it will come true...some day.
Whenever I see someone else's child throwing a tantrum or misbehaving or with messy hair, I always think, "Oh, thank heavens! Someone else is imperfect like me and has imperfect children like me too!" Followed by a sigh of relief and strong urge to hug the stuffing out of that good, frazzled mother.
So I think for Mother's Day this year, I'm going to give myself a gift--the gift of no judging. I'm going to try really hard to stop comparing my faults to other's strengths. I'm going to compliment myself when I do something right and forgive myself when I do something wrong. I'm going to lower my expectations for myself. I mean, I don't expect my friends to do everything and do it perfectly, so why do I expect that of myself? And most of all, I'm going to accept the fact that God loves me and that He never meant for me to do this mother thing perfectly or to do this alone. I need to quit floundering for so long before I turn to Him for help.
So, chin up, Jolene! You're doing just fine.
Here's a piece of art that I didn't really understand when I first saw it many years ago, but now there's something about it that just resonates with me. If you notice all of the responsibilities that the woman is carrying, and how her foot just brushes the tree below her. She's not flying high. She's just barely clearing the trees. That's how I feel most days, but I'm flying nonetheless.
It's called Responsible Woman. The artist is James Christensen. You can check out his other artwork at: http://www.jameschristensen.com/
"Moms…do you ever feel like the weight of the world is resting firmly on your shoulders? Do you ever feel like it's your job…YOUR JOB… to make sure that your kids always do the right thing and turn out well? Do you ever worry that the entire neighborhood is aware and judging you when your kids sneak out of the house with mismatched socks, messy hair and less-than-polite attitudes?
Oftentimes, the most loving and effective mothers take the most heat from others and themselves.
Wonderful moms understand that kids need to make plenty of small, affordable mistakes. They know that kids must experience occasional struggles and disappointments. They also know that constant rescuing or micromanaging just creates kids who need constant rescuing and micromanaging.
Because of this, the best moms often feel a bit lonely and unsure of themselves. They feel lonely because our society too frequently rewards what looks good rather than what is good. They feel lonely because they rarely overhear other mothers bragging about allowing their kids to learn by forgetting a lunch, misplacing an occasional homework paper, or having to pay for a lost coat.
The best moms often feel a bit lonely and unsure of themselves.
It's easy to feel guilty or insecure when you see so many "super hover mommies" acting like pack mules, carrying all of their children's sporting equipment, back packs and other responsibilities. It's easy to lose perspective when your minivan is the only one without an "Honor Student" bumper sticker. It's tempting to waver when the parents next door are working harder completing their child's homework than their child is.
On this Mother's Day holiday, I hope to encourage all of the wonderful mothers who let things fall apart from time to time…who understand the wisdom of providing a rather imperfect world for their kids. When you find yourself feeling insecure or guilty, listen to our audio, Helicopters, Drill Sergeants and Consultants, and be reminded that it's far better for our kids to submit a sloppy science fair project than them seeing us hunched over the kitchen table frantically doing it for them."
This got me thinking--a dangerous past time, I know (name that movie). I always look at Heidi and think what an amazing mom she is. Her kids eat their vegetables, are well-mannered and smart, her house is so clean, she makes her own bread, she's so organized, she has it all together, etc., etc. Then I look at myself and think what a terrible mom I am. My kids aren't really sure what vegetables are, they can throw some amazing tantrums, my house is a disaster zone, my life feels like chaos most days, etc., etc. I realize that I do this with most women I know. It is very easy for me to only see the wonderful things that other moms are doing and compare that to what I feel are my inadequacies. When I read this post by Heidi, I felt a little surprised. She feels this way too sometimes?! But she is an awesome mom! It never occurs to me that these super moms that I see all around me feel the same inadequacies and self-judgments as I do. Maybe when we think people are looking at us judging us, maybe, just maybe, they didn't even notice or think twice that my kids had McDonald's twice last week.
I'm realizing that when out in public, most moms try to put their best foot forward just like I do. It's not an act, per se, it's more of a fake it 'til you make it kind of thing. If I act like I have it all together when I take my children to story time at the library, then maybe one day it will come true...some day.
Whenever I see someone else's child throwing a tantrum or misbehaving or with messy hair, I always think, "Oh, thank heavens! Someone else is imperfect like me and has imperfect children like me too!" Followed by a sigh of relief and strong urge to hug the stuffing out of that good, frazzled mother.
So I think for Mother's Day this year, I'm going to give myself a gift--the gift of no judging. I'm going to try really hard to stop comparing my faults to other's strengths. I'm going to compliment myself when I do something right and forgive myself when I do something wrong. I'm going to lower my expectations for myself. I mean, I don't expect my friends to do everything and do it perfectly, so why do I expect that of myself? And most of all, I'm going to accept the fact that God loves me and that He never meant for me to do this mother thing perfectly or to do this alone. I need to quit floundering for so long before I turn to Him for help.
So, chin up, Jolene! You're doing just fine.
Here's a piece of art that I didn't really understand when I first saw it many years ago, but now there's something about it that just resonates with me. If you notice all of the responsibilities that the woman is carrying, and how her foot just brushes the tree below her. She's not flying high. She's just barely clearing the trees. That's how I feel most days, but I'm flying nonetheless.
It's called Responsible Woman. The artist is James Christensen. You can check out his other artwork at: http://www.jameschristensen.com/
Being a mom is like being a Las Vegas performer.
Being a mom is like being a Las Vegas performer. I'm not talking the scantily clad performers with lots of sequins and feathers or strip club gals. I mean performers like what you might see on the TV show America's Got Talent...performers just trying to have the act that draws people in to see it time and time again. For example, this is from the Las Vegas publicity website (lasvegas.com):
No other city can compete with the events, concerts and shows in Las Vegas. We're truly the Entertainment Capital of the World. And no matter what you're looking for this summer, we've got just the event. There are Las Vegas shows with dancing, singing, acrobatics and more. There's comedy or drama. And a healthy amount of spectacle.
And the concerts are out of this world all summer, and year, long. Nowhere else are so many talented performers performing night after night...
Sorry, Las Vegas. I beg to differ. My house might give you a run for your money. As a mother, I am performing every day. I sing, I dance, I act, I improv, I do impersonations and puppet shows, and I'm a pretty good comedian. The thing I love about being a mom is that I am not a good singer (I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket); I'm not a good dancer; my impersonations aren't always spot on; my jokes are usually cheesy; but my kids still like it. They keep requesting the same songs every day. They like to sing and dance with me and be silly. We have fun and enjoy being together. So maybe I don't have the huge crowds or fame and maybe I'm not making the big bucks, but hearing those cute laughs and giggles and making those fun memories is so much better.
By the way, what does 'a healthy amount of spectacle' mean? Is there some way to measure how much spectacle is healthy and how much crosses the line to unhealthy? Just wondering.
No other city can compete with the events, concerts and shows in Las Vegas. We're truly the Entertainment Capital of the World. And no matter what you're looking for this summer, we've got just the event. There are Las Vegas shows with dancing, singing, acrobatics and more. There's comedy or drama. And a healthy amount of spectacle.
Sorry, Las Vegas. I beg to differ. My house might give you a run for your money. As a mother, I am performing every day. I sing, I dance, I act, I improv, I do impersonations and puppet shows, and I'm a pretty good comedian. The thing I love about being a mom is that I am not a good singer (I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket); I'm not a good dancer; my impersonations aren't always spot on; my jokes are usually cheesy; but my kids still like it. They keep requesting the same songs every day. They like to sing and dance with me and be silly. We have fun and enjoy being together. So maybe I don't have the huge crowds or fame and maybe I'm not making the big bucks, but hearing those cute laughs and giggles and making those fun memories is so much better.
By the way, what does 'a healthy amount of spectacle' mean? Is there some way to measure how much spectacle is healthy and how much crosses the line to unhealthy? Just wondering.
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