The summer I realized being a SAHM wasn't for me

Growing up, I dreamt of being a stay at home mom (SAHM). I imagined waking up early to make delectable lunches (along with a cute note), volunteering to be class mom, spearheading class fundraisers and organizing fun after-school activities - all while being a perfect homemaker wife. 

Then I got married. I tried to be the perfect homemaker, attempting to schedule dinner coming out of the oven as my husband walked in the door. I think in my mind I envisioned wearing a super cute apron, too - which never happened!

Oye!

I failed miserably. I can't count how many times dinner was late and/or burnt, laundry failed to get transferred to the dryer from the washer and how many days ended in tears. 

When I found out I was pregnant, I was working at a job I loved. I couldn't imagine leaving, especially since this job had become my "baby" as I was struggling to get pregnant. I had given so much time and energy into my work that it became more than part of my life, it was my identity. So much so, I returned to work when Aiden was only 6-weeks old.

I quickly discovered the difficulty of being a working mom with a newborn. I was exhausted, didn't have enough time to pump so I got mastitis three times and missed my baby like mad - leading me to resent the job I loved so much and resent the child I had desired for years. I felt like I wasn't good ENOUGH to do both jobs, let alone do them well. 

Shortly thereafter, I recalled my childhood dream of being "that mom" and made the decision to stay home with Aiden.

Cooper Beach set-up, spent many a mornings here. 

Later that year, my husband's work took us to the east coast, where we lived in the Hamptons for the Summer. For the first time in Aiden's life, he could rely on me 24/7 without worrying when I would return from work. I tried to be the perfect mom, attempting to wake up early to make a hot breakfast and researched "fun things to do with a toddler" in Long Island. In my mind I imagined wearing super cute, trendy clothes, too. Once again, I failed miserably. 

My clothes weren't Hamptons chic, I initially had no friends and I quickly discovered being a SAHM is hard. I found myself wishing I had a job to go to, a place where I wasn't pawed at, a place to be alone - in silence.

I would literally countdown the hours until my husband got home from work. Usually that meant he would walk in the door, I'd hand off parent responsibilities and escape to the bathroom for alone time.

Don't get me wrong, my son was an easy toddler. He was easily entertained, smiled frequently and went with the flow. While he had emotional meltdowns, they rarely escalated into tantrums. 

So what was the big deal you might ask? I can say it in two words...

UNMET EXPECTATIONS!

It wasn't until I was in our new home, in the thick of our time on the East Coast, that I realized I had an expectation of what that summer would entail, an expectation that was not being met, leading me to not appreciate or notice the JOYS that were surrounding me. 

Beach bums

I envisioned loving my quality one-on-one time with my son. The reality was, I was more exhausted after a day with him than I was after working a 10-hour work day. My fancy lunches were unfancy and on the go, followed by a play session at the park, ALONE, with a young toddler. It took a long time to make friends, even then they tended to be unauthentic because I was throwing myself at other mammas to fulfill an ache for adult conversations. I thought I would love my new freedom, but it just made me miss my home, friends and family that much more.

I'm embarrassed to say I was frequently frazzled and didn't give Aiden the time and attention he needed, often counting down the hours until nap time, which never came soon enough. 

Blueberry picking at Seven Ponds Orchard

Needless to say, I expected to embrace my SAHM title. Instead, I resented it. 

While I love being a mom, and waited a long time to be given that title, I'm a much better mom when I work. Now, after a day of work, I soak up every moment with Aiden, making these moments intentional time together. Even though his nanny spends the most time with him during the week, I know I make Aiden feel safe and loved, which is ultimately what every mom, stay at home or not, desires for their kids.

In addition, my expectations shifted. I made a promise to myself and to Aiden to be the perfect working mamma, knowing the definition of perfection would be redefined each day, giving me the ability to acknowledge daily that I did ENOUGH, I loved ENOUGH and I am ENOUGH. 

East Hampton, 2014

Boobies, Band-Aides and Poop

As most toddlers, Aiden is a procedural lil guy. In his case, procedures create clear expectations and makes him secure in his environment. As such, Aiden has a pretty clear and consistent bedtime procedure; bath, fews mins of family playtime, family story time, prayers and into bed. He is quick to correct me when there is any detour of said procedure.

Up until recently Josh or I have been the one leading prayer time. Even when Aiden would say prayers himself, we would help and guide him. Of recent, Aiden has begun to say his own prayers with no help from us. What comes out of his little mouth always leaves me in awe. It's not the words that come out but the intention behind it. It's so sweet when a three-year old shares the favorite part of his day and shows gratitude for parts of his life that I don't realize have an impact on him, completely unprompted and from his heart.

The norm includes Aiden thanking God for his mommy and daddy, or the dogs, or toys. Until one night - everything changed. There was no thanking God for his parents or his friends. Rather, he said, "Thank you God for boobies, band-aids and poop."

My initial reaction was to chuckle. Then I realized what was said. I couldn't help but think, "What kind of kid am I raising? What have I done wrong? Am I raising a stereotypical frat boy?"

Over the days that followed I spent quite a bit of time reflecting over that moment.  I realized while his word choices were odd, he was expressing gratitude about the small things in his life.

*He's grateful for boobies, which is what he calls his nipples. I'm glad, even at a young age, he is able to express appreciation for his body.

*Band-aids are a big part of his life. They have 'magical powers' to make any ouchie feel better. Especially when his band-aids have a Star Wars or Superman character on them. 

*Poop! I remember audibly praising God whenever I pooped during my first trimester of pregnancy. (Those pregnancy hormones did a number on my digestive track, the juices didn't flow easily.) So maybe thanking God for poop isn't as weird as it initially seemed. Especially to a recently potty trained little boy. It's a new thing for him to realize the sensation to poop before it comes out. To his little brain, knowing when he needs to poop and making it to the toilet in time is something to be proud of. 

So maybe the real issue with his "Boobies, Band-Aids and Poop" prayer has nothing to do with Aiden and EVERYTHING to do with me. I was the one concerned. I was the one embarrassed. The reality is, maybe there's something to be learned. I was searching for him to show gratitude for big ticket items (mommy, daddy, toys, etc) but those are MY big ticket items. Maybe he's actually on to something. Being grateful for the smaller things in life are just as powerful and meaningful.