Being a Mother

Being a female in this world is hard. We learn this truth as young girls and we spend our lives trying to overcome it. I was a tomboy growing up and I knew that I was better than most boys in my class at some sports. And yet, I had to downplay my talents in order for them to respect me, and think I was good, without thinking I was trying to overshadow them. Looking back on it now, I see how stupid it was to dim my light so that someone else could shine brighter. We’re taught that we have to work harder, be smarter and do more just to be accepted, just to have value. We have to work hard on ourselves to get as close to perfection as we can without becoming perfect. We have to both step into the light while staying in the shadows. That shit is not easy, and it’s not right.

Then maybe we become a wife. We now have a partner to share things with. And with that we might think that things will get easier, but they don’t. Because now, not only do you have yourself to take care of, but you have someone else who relies on you for so many things. And growing up, women are taught that we have to take care of our spouse. We have to do most of the work in the household. We have another person to think of, to put before ourselves. Their needs and wants have to come before our own. So really, nothing changes, it’s still hard, probably even a little harder.

But I’ve learned that you don’t really know what hard is until you become a mother. Before you have a child everyone around you makes it look so easy. It looks like it’s the best job in the world, nothing but smiles, love and laughter. And when you become a mother yourself, you realize that was bullshit. There is no harder job in the world.

My daughter is 11 and as she gets older there are so many days when I wish that we could go back to when she was a baby. That might sound crazy to some people but I feel like things were much easier then. Yes, I was tired from interrupted sleep. It was draining to have someone depend on you for every little thing. The diapers, the feedings, the laundry; it all piled up and never seemed to end. When she was a baby, I felt like I was running from one thing to the next, never having time to catch my breath. And I had my husband who was very hands on and helped me as much as he could so that everything wasn’t on me, and for that I will always be grateful. But as moms, most things still fall on us. We carried our child; we have a closeness that can’t be compared to anything else in the entire world and we feel responsible for this little person. And while we might have people who are willing to help us, we feel the need to do it all ourselves. And we never think that we’re doing enough, or that we’re doing it right, and our baby can’t tell us anything so we just have to have faith that everything is the way it should be. And as long as we keep that baby happy and healthy then we’re doing our job. Having a baby is hard, but I’d still go back to that time in a heartbeat, because for most of that time, I was just physically tired.

My daughter is 11 going on 16. That’s how it feels most days. And as she gets older, I’m not as physically tired as I used to be. Yes, we now have to get up earlier for school and the mornings can be crazy but once she leaves the house I can rest if I need to. The physical tiredness isn’t so bad. But the mental and emotional exhaustion are two of the hardest things in the world.

As babies, our children don’t have too many needs. It’s basic stuff that becomes a daily routine. There’s not much thinking involved. But as they grow up, all of that changes. They start to become their own person. They have a mind of their own with their own thoughts and feelings. And the questions are endless and they start from the moment they wake up to right before they close their eyes. My daughter will be in bed, about to go to sleep, and she’ll still yell down to me and my husband with a question or something she forgot to tell us. It never ends.

Most of the questions aren’t too hard. If she needs help with her math, I’m on top of it. Needs help in English class, I got that too; the other subjects I might not be as good at but thank God for Google. I can help her with school stuff, or help her work on a craft or fix something that is broken. Those are the easy things we get to do. As mothers, we are responsible for this human being that we brought into the world. It is our job to guide them and help them navigate this life. We have to be the best example to them because they are watching everything we do and learning from that. We have the responsibility of helping them become the best version of themselves. Fuck, that shit is hard.

Most days I feel like I’m failing, like I’m just not good enough. She has so many questions, real deep questions, and she expects me to have the answers but I don’t. Some of the things in her head, some of the questions that come out of her really catch me off guard, and I stumble to find an answer. And I worry that the answer I give her won’t be the right one. In moments like these I think of my Grandma and wonder how she did it with 11 children when I struggle so much with just one. Was she ever exhausted like this? Did she ever feel like a failure?

My daughter has big questions and big emotions and it’s my job to help her figure things out. But how am I supposed to do that when I can’t answer my own questions or figure out my own emotions? I sometimes think she deserves a better mother and I don’t say that for sympathy or pity, I say that because of how inadequate I feel most days.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to being a kid but I would not want to be a child in today’s world. They are so overloaded with information and so overstimulated by the thousands of things around them and at their fingertips on the internet. Of course they have tons of questions, I have them myself as an adult. Kids today ask questions that would never have been a thought in my head when I was their age. We talked about the election a lot in our house and I realized that, at 11, I might have known who the President was but that’s all I knew. Nothing was ever talked about when I was that young. Mainly because they didn’t need to be, it was of no concern to us. But now, everything affects the kids, both good and bad.

My daughter wants to know so many things and I’m trying to find the line between saying too much and not saying enough. And these questions have been going on for years and just when I think they can’t get any harder, here they come. When she was younger, she had an African American friend who said her Dad didn’t like white people. This was when she was 5, and when my daughter told me about it, she asked why her friend’s Dad would feel that way. And I struggled to find the right answer, so I tried to focus on something positive and I said that her friend obviously didn’t feel that way and, in our house, we love everyone and that’s all that matters. Was that the right answer? Who the hell knows, but I felt it was appropriate for a 5-year-old. Now that she’s older, she knows more about race and what it means to be racist, and she absolutely knows that we are not like that in our house and if any of her friends are being mistreated for any reason, she should say something and help them.

She wants to know why people hate, why do others not want her uncle to be treated right just because he loves his husband. Why do people hurt each other? Why do they kill each other? Why can’t everyone just be nice to each other like her and her friends? I wonder the same things and I still don’t have a valid answer so what do I say to her? I try not to hold back my feelings; I tell her the truth and I speak from my heart. And I hope that what I say is enough to ease her mind and calm her heart. And I’m not afraid to cry in front of her, or be mad about something that isn’t right, while also letting her know that she doesn’t have to feel the way I feel. She has the choice to feel however her heart is telling her to. And still, I feel that I’m not doing the best job that I can, that my answers aren’t good enough to make her feel better.

I don’t want her finding answers from other people because there’s so much misinformation in the world and people like to force their opinion on others. And I definitely don’t want her looking things up by herself. Kids today have to know things so much earlier than I had to know them. Their bodies are changing quicker and they talk about things in school earlier. She’s already had health class, girls her age have started getting their periods. So, over the summer we went through a book about her body changing. I had already talked to her about periods but the conversation led to questions about sex and how babies are made. And as tough as it was for me to have that conversation with her, I was happy she was comfortable to ask me the questions and talk about things. I always want her to know she can come to me and talk to me about anything. I don’t ever want her to be scared to ask me something. That’s not the mother I want to be.

I know that the questions will never stop and they will only get harder as she gets older. And I will continuously question whether or not I’m giving her a good enough answer and if I’m doing a good job raising her and helping her. I will always feel less than what she deserves, I think most mothers feel this way. We never see our value, we never know our worth, we always think we should be doing more and doing it better than yesterday. Life isn’t easy, and being a woman makes it so much harder. Being a mother takes life to a whole other level. It can kick your ass, it can knock you off of your feet, it can make you feel every emotion under the sun. It is the hardest thing a woman can do; but it is also the most rewarding and the most beautiful thing in the world. I haven’t done a lot in my life but when I look at my daughter, I know there will always be something good in the world, and at least I got something right.