The day I became a mother I had plans, goals, expectations, and ideas on how this whole thing called "motherhood" was going to go. What I know now, ten years and four kids later, is that those plans couldn't have been further from reality. I started off making well balanced meals that catered to individual needs, read books and sang songs before bed, did holiday themed crafts, attended story times and music classes, stuck to nap times, and bedtimes, and dressed my kids in designer clothes more expensive than my own. I created birthday invitations on better card stock than my wedding invitations, and had birthday parties with themes, designer bakery cakes, and tons of guests. I scheduled play dates and filled their days beginning to end with fun things to do. But, what I've learned is that none of that matters to kids, and motherhood doesn't have to be one big Pinterest moment.
I've learned shoe shopping with kids should be listed as torture, making school lunches every day is painful, and there is nothing better than pizza day on Fridays. I've learned there is no amount of cleaner that can take a urine smell out of a mattress, or enough air freshener to lessen the smell of wet kids and sports equipment in your car. I've learned if you feed your kids dinner before 5pm they will think it is lunch, and will ask "whats for dinner?" later on, yet if you wait until 5:30p they've eaten so many snacks they're not hungry. I've learned the best made plans for a nap will be foiled by a puking kid who needs to be picked up from school, a dentist appointment you forgot about, or a $300 visit to the vet only to find out there is nothing wrong with your dog who's been puking on your rug. I've made dinners no one likes, sent kids to school in mismatched clothes from the wrong season, and forgotten appointments on more than one occasion. Those well balances meals they had as toddlers have been replaced by 180 consecutive school days of salami and cheese sandwiches (by request!) , and my 4 year old's play dates are now afternoons spent with 10 and 11 year old boys on the sports fields. I haven't sent out a birthday party invitation in years, usually make Betty Crocker yellow cupcakes with store bought frosting (lets admit it's way better!), and if they don't do their reading after school, there is no way its getting done before bed. Although they still wear better clothes and more expensive sneakers than I will ever own, they will only wear a collared shirt if I beg, and most of what they have are hand-me-downs. But guess what? Everyone is healthy, happy, and they all say " I love you" as I tuck them in at night no matter how the day goes.
Working in the Emergency Room, I often meet people at the worst moment, of the worst day of their lives with a "Hi, my name is Mary, I will be your nurse tonight." Sometimes our time together ends with smiles, a few band-aids, and a "you're going to be totally fine, hope you feel better!". Other times, our time ends with glimmers of hope, tears, hugs, and a "I'm so sorry". I have no idea how they will do, or what trajectory their life is about to take, and more often than not I will never get a follow up. But during our time together they're not worried about trivial things, instead they ask for their family. They ask for their children, their parents, and their loved ones. They worry about who's going to care for their wife at home with dementia. They worry who will pick up their kids from daycare, and tell them Daddy is hurt. They worry when they can't get in touch with their spouse who's away on business as their baby lay sick in the bed. They've just been told they have cancer, but sign out against medical advice because they don't have any family and need to make sure someone is taking care of their dog, which is their whole world. It's in those moments that you realize what really matters and what's really important. When you're laying in a hospital bed in a gown, it doesn't matter if you are a CEO of a company with the world at your fingertips, or a homeless addict being swallowed up by the world. It doesn't matter if your house is clean, what car you drive, or where you went to school. It doesn't matter if you fed your kids organic salmon and cauliflower rice for dinner, or chicken nuggets with a healthy serving of ketchup for the third time this week. It doesn't matter.
What matters is spending time with those you love, those you care about, and those who care about you. It's about teaching kids to treat all people with kindness regardless of where they are from, what they are wearing, what they do for work, or what they do or do not have. It's about saying "hello", sharing a smile, making eye contact, looking up from their phones and out their window at the world around them. It's about seeing the bigger picture of life, and not the tiny snap shot of perfectly filtered picture squares of Instagram and Pinterest. Life is certainly not promised, and no matter how organized you are, how well you plan, how much you think you have it together, your life can change in an instant. You are only ever one instant away from a diaper blow out, throw up in your hair, grocery store meltdown, missing Halloween costume, or a broken toy kind of moment. When everyone around you seems to be dressed with hair and makeup done, and you are still in your yoga pants and yesterday's makeup and feel like you can't get out of your own way, know that we have all been there and it's the perspective you have in that moment that matters.
Remember that some people want nothing more than to have what you have. Some people will never get to do what you're doing, or feel what you're feeling again.
Remember at times you have to laugh, take a deep breath, and take a moment to love on those kids, because all they really care about is spending time with you.
Remember even when you feel like you're failing this whole parenting thing, someone else's perspective is that you're killing it.
