Yes, it does get easier. Did I already say that?
If I forgot, it’s because I forget most things these days. And at two years of mothering, yes, it gets easier. Sort of. I’m not sleep deprived anymore. Mostly. And this parenting thing is no longer “horrible“, but I stand my by sensibilities of the time.
And I do have enough scars to feel like I’m earning my stripes. That I can look at a mother with a 15 month old on a five hour flight and think, don’t worry lady, I’ve got your back. I sing songs. I do faces. That binkie on the ground? I’ll get it for you and turn away so you can pop it back into kiddo’s mouth.
I know all of these things now.
For a long time, I whined and whined to people, ‘why didn’t you tell me?’ But honestly, in hindsight, I was so happy not knowing. It was luxurious not knowing.
Two months ago, a friend and I were sitting in a New England coffee shop, catching up on ten years of life, and sharing motherhood stories. Of course, we added the “why didn’t anyone tell us” chorus to our conversation.
The universe, being a powerful and sassy force, immediately sent a middle-aged women over to our table to coo at my friend’s new baby. Cooing is good. She shared her own story of having two boys. And gave my girlfriend some tips on boys. We chuckled. And she should have left.
And like a slow-motion waterfall out came her stories of resentment at leaving her job to raise her kids, at the need to be ‘manicured’ at all times, at the loneliness of a husband traveling for work, at the way her sons treat her – like their father does, at being needed & suddenly not being needed, and at keeping up with the Joneses.
An hour later, the universe winked and said now you know. Suckers.
I left wondering why we let her that ramble on for so long, but consoling myself that “I won’t be like her”. It’s the same line of thinking a first-time mom, still pregnant, uses on all the other moms we know. “I won’t be like them.”
Except now that I “know” about what it means to be a mom, to be a wife, to raise a family – it’s probably not as far off as I’d like to believe.
I’m still trying to repress what she said, and trying to find the luxury of not knowing once again.
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