Talk


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When facing a challenge in life where I feel unsteady on my feet, I remind myself of two things:

1. I am a mom.

2. I can do anything.*

 

OK, not technically anything.

I cannot cartwheel.  It’s no longer happening.

I also cannot speak another language, walk in high heels or swallow large pills.

And I can’t successfully do math in my head, or on paper for that matter.

But here’s what I can do:

I can entertain two small children, alone on an eight-hour flight, without being ejected.

I can walk around my silly hipster neighborhood with a greasy ponytail, no makeup and an outfit that is part pajamas, part MC-Hammer-sweatpants-from-college and not care what people think.

I can hold my toddler’s legs while he’s getting stitches under his chin for the second time and seem stoic even though my legs are shaking and I’m screaming inside.

I can furtively rearrange all the furniture in our apartment…change my mind…and move it all back before my husband gets home.

I can open the family pickle jar.

I can eat fried chicken like a man.

I can break the news—carefully—to my oldest son that our beloved dog died while he was at school, attempting to explain the concept of heaven with a lump in my throat.  And I can suppress my smile when he looks up brightly for a moment through tears, to ask if he can see Houdini’s fossil.

I can dance like a fiend to the Charlie Brown theme song with my children after dinner, in plain view of the neighbors across the street.

I can survive missing the first day of Kindergarten, abroad on an unavoidable business trip, even though I find this more exquisitely painful than childbirth.

I can hold poop.  In my bare hands.

And I can wake up each morning excited and happy (though I’m not a morning person) because I get to smell the warm milky smell of two waking boys—who squeeze my neck and kiss me feverishly and have what my husband calls our Morning Love Fest.

As a mother, I can do anything.

Anything that matters.

*The physical act of childbirth, alone, I feel, qualifies mothers as Champions.

 

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Comments (9)

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  1. Posted by: mallary

    As a new mom I can definitely relate to the new mom tasks that, while horrific in some sense, make me feel like Wonder Woman! Great article!

  2. Posted by: Danielle

    Love this. I’m about to be a first time mom within the next 3 weeks and stuff like this makes me swoon and get excited about my new journey as a mommy. And I totally agree with you…any woman who has gone through childbirth is by far a HUGE CHAMPION! (Hope I get through it with flying colors) EEP!

  3. Posted by: Justine

    I love this post so much. The furniture and poop items made me laugh out loud on the bus – oh how I can relate to those!

  4. This is just so beautiful, and hilarious and true.

  5. Posted by: Heidi

    I can totally relate to the chin stitches. He’s forgotten all about it, but I still get pains in my stomach thinking about it.

  6. Posted by: Jolie

    I LOVE THIS A MILLION. I’m the new(-ish) mom of a 13mo and I find myself feeling more proud than ever at what I’m capable of so far…thank you:)

  7. Posted by: Honeybee

    I can sit by my son’s bedside from 1am to 3am when he has a fever and wait for him to settle and go back to sleep and go to the office the next day and pretend I know about the financial markets. (This was last night/is today). And many more things. Oh, and after giving birth to our first, would anyone have asked if I could become President of the United States, I would have said yes and believed it (among other minor obstacles, I’m Swiss). I still kind of believe it now, 6 years later. Mothers of this world, I salute you.

  8. Posted by: Jessica

    Beautifully written. This encapsulates my mundane yet extraordinary life as a young mother. Thank you for these sentiments.

  9. Posted by: Wanda

    BOOM! I get you, girl!

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