Mom

I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, a business owner, a woman. I used to document my life through photographs, always having my phone out and camera ready. I captured every moment of my little ones running around, climbing walls, playing with toys, and even dressing up as princesses to go through Home Depot. Whether it was peeing in Barbie toilets, being in time-out, or blowing out birthday candles- if it happened, I captured it.

However, as my girls grow older, they're asking for space and becoming more self-conscious about their appearance and how they're perceived. To be honest, this change makes me feel isolated, disconnected, and negative in many ways. And I believe I'm not the only mom who feels this way. The lack of resources available for this age group proves that many people feel hopeless about reaching kids at this stage.

But I'm determined to find a way to stay connected, to grow with my kids, and not to let these big emotions "crush my soul." I am determined to adapt.

To be honest, I never planned on having kids in the first place. I was pretty young when Jon and I got married, and a couple of years later, we found out we were pregnant. I was so nervous that I wouldn't be a good mom that I swear I made my body seize up and keep Lilly in. It got to the point where I had to have an emergency C-section with a doctor pushing and another pulling her out simultaneously because a nurse told me, "It's okay; some people just can't do it." But I was going to do it. That determination led me to push for four hours, almost bleed to death, and ended up with her getting stuck and the nurse getting fired for not notifying the Dr. I was in labor for so long. (It's a long, crazy story. But isn’t every life event??)

But, when I saw her little face, I knew I was meant to have Lilly. I was meant to be a mom. And it was awesome. A little over a year later, we found out we were expecting again. And I was nervous, again. I thought, "How could I possibly love another human being as much as I love Lilly?" But when Kate was born, in her… to this day- true to herself- stubborn fashion, two weeks early while I was trying to finish my last shift before maternity leave, everything changed, again. Every fear, doubt, and insecurity vanished when I saw her face. I knew she would also be my little person, always, from that moment until the moment I died. I knew- I was meant to have Kate and Lilly.

To be honest, again, the early years weren't hard for me. This is not a brag; it’s just how it was. I didn’t panic read parenting books or worry about much-- I enjoyed their cries, snuggling them to sleep in the early mornings, and holding them when they were happy or scared. For the first time, I was okay with sleep deprivation. I loved watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Finding Nemo, and Frozen with them. As they grew up, I loved planning those special, over-the-top birthday parties. I utilized every resource available to entertain and help my girls grow. And I know that isn’t always the case for a lot of people, and that is okay, too. Everyone was born with different abilities and strengths. I think I was just born to handle that time of our lives, that type of chaos.

But then COVID hit, time started to fly, and my girls transitioned into pre-teens and teens. Those resources disappeared, and it has been challenging. Before I could whip up a cupcake or a batch of cookies and talk through struggles, hard things, or boring things with my girls, and it worked. We were connected. They were my best friends, and everything else was a bonus, but we were each other’s security. But now, cupcakes don't solve things, and they don't break through the silence. I am not their security. They’re finding themselves on their own, with peers. It feels like Mom can rarely do anything right. And I understand that it's just a reality of this age. I'm okay with it, but it is hard. It's isolating. It's jarring because, for 12 years, I thought, "I got this. We will be okay." And then, everything changes suddenly. It's almost like birthing a new child, except I'm older and more aware of the repercussions of not getting it right.

Immediately, my husband and I started analyzing what we were doing wrong and how to fix ourselves to improve things. Full transparency-- self-reflection is never bad, but it's not the only solution. I believe it's just a stage where many parents feel the same way we do. We feel like we have failed as parents and question what we did wrong. That shameful, yucky feeling occupies our brains 80% of the time. So, we clam up and put on a facade. We show and talk about only the good. Or maybe we show and talk about only the pre-approved pictures or moments as deemed "allowable" by our kids. We want them to feel heard and respected too, but those “acceptable” times are rare, so to the outside world, the people who don’t live in the same home, it seems like we're distant and gone- but probably doing great. We see happy families on vacation or doing activities together. And our world gets smaller, our support group gets smaller, and our communication with the people helping raise our kids gets smaller.

Eventually, the strain on the family becomes isolated, hidden, but significantly impactful. I wonder if that's why so many couples end up divorcing during this life stage. Everyone is always in fight or flight mode, and then add the stress of what COVID did to our communities. It's overwhelming. Everyone is in the same response mode, feeling the strain of everyday life stressors. So, when you add personal failure to that mountain, it's understandable why it leaves you feeling overwhelmingly gross.

Without God, I would have cracked a long time ago. I wouldn't have been able to look beyond the earthly side of all this "junk." Without God sending me people to say the right things at the exact moment, without God putting us in the right spots at the exact moment, I don't think I would have seen past the hardness of growing up. So, there's hope. I guess that's the point, we have to hope. We have to keep trying. We cannot isolate or pretend like we have it together. Or worse- pretend like we have it together and judge other families on their shortcomings. This time is critical. We need to let our kids grow, but not isolate. We have to stick together as a community.

So that’s what I’m attempting to do. I am going to share the good, the bad, the isolation, the everything- in the rawest form I can. And I hope it resonates with some of you. I hope it gives you perspective and helps you in some way. And if it doesn’t, it’s okay. It’s going to be my new way of documenting life so that I can remember all the times- good and bad- when I reach the next jarring stage of my life. But really, I hope it helps.

Xox

Liz