welcome to the motherhood.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

this is me.
how you'll find me these days,
should you wander over to my house an early weekday morning.
'random' should be my middle name.
my new (and SAWeet) galoshes, my favorite pants, camo, of course,
(one of my 'besties' just vomited in her mouth. . .she hates camo.)
a shirt too long, a jacket too short and my favorite winter hat.
i AM a woman, but it's hard to tell.:)
i'm a RANDOM woman.
a hodge-podge of a woman,
who in these in-between days of melting snow, 
temps trying to decide if they've outgrown winter and are ready for spring,
is stuck herself.
coming off a long winter of cozy sweaters, hooded sweatshirts and baggie sweatpants,
now longing for tank tops, flip flops and beach towels.
so i'm stuck here.
somewhere in a random middle.
not quite sure how to dress myself,
nor really caring, honestly.
and i don't usually post pictures of myself,
because, i'm a hot mess.:)
but i thought it was a great way to lead in to my 'randomness' 
and the role it all plays as the mother of this hood.
i'm OOZING grace and calm and confidence, aren't i?
heh!
i've recently found myself,
well, probably because it's spring,
looking for more change.
YEARNING for something new, 
aside from the annual house and closet simplifying i do, 
but change on the OUTSIDE of me.
there's no denying the gray's now springing up and out of my head
like tulips out of the cold, winter ground
(not nearly as pretty.)
the crow's feet,
the dull skin.
the dry and crusty hands from hours of dishwashing, floor scrubbing, scouring, hand-wringing.
my failing vision. 
my split ends.
my 'horns.' (as one of my other besties refers to her zits.)
because i eat too much chocolate and don't drink enough water.
at 32.
i'm slowly becoming intrigued by the real housewives and their perfect bodies,
bouncing bosoms, flawless skin and long, shiny hair.
yes, they don't look like real humans,
they have stylists, make-up artists, a team to make them look amazing.
that's not fair.
nor is it real.  or normal.
but nonetheless, they intrigue me.
i could never do it.  any of it.
i can learn to live with myself as i am.  
but want to do SOMETHING to repair the damage of years gone by,
birthing children, chasing toddlers, sleepless nights and long days.
for a more 'fresh' and 'rejuvenated' look.
(which means i'll probably just get a haircut and drink some more water.)
but this need for physical change, has obviously required a (painful) once-over in the mirror,
of the woman i am now.
i cringe.
16 in my mind.  always.
my GOD if i looked as good as i did at 16?!  
and i'm not in denial.  i don't.
i FEEL 16 still.  not physically, but in my mind.
but a wife and mother of 3, toting a nose ring, camo pants and hoop earrings the size of montana.
(not shown here, but a staple of my ensembles.  they're awesome.  and huge.)
i wonder, who does this chick think she is?
i do know this.
despite my little daydreams of smooth baby-butt skin, 
things to be lifted, tucked, taught, luscious:)
i like who i am.  gray hairs, blood shot eyes and all.
that's one thing i've been fortunate to have,
a healthy self-image, despite my imperfections.
a 'i really don't care what anyone thinks of this outfit, my hair, my new purse.'
my senior prom EVERYONE was wearing long, beautiful, classy gowns.
hair tucked sweetly in to french twists, rhinestone tear drop earrings, matching satin purses and elbow-length gloves.
and then there's me.
wearing a fire engine-red satin $40 dress, tight as could be, 
SHORT as could be (i couldn't bend over in it.)  4" heels and and black satin gloves.
my hair down.  
yes, and you said it in your head.
i looked like a total hussy (which is funny, because i really wasn't.)
i just really liked the dress.
#1.  i can't believe my parents let me out of the house.
#2.  i can't believe my parents let me out of the house.
but that was me.  they knew better.  there was no fighting me.
i would wear what i wanted.
because,
i didn't care.
BUT.
there are days, like the past week,
where i sit on the couch, kids screaming around me after a long day,
thinking 16,
wondering,
where am i?  who are these people?  they're loud, they smell, they're gross, the way they chew their food and blow boogers in to their sleeves, poop their pants, forget to wipe,
when the hell are their parents coming home so i can get the h out of here?!
(and i'm sure my babysitters think that too.:)
but it's a weird feeling.  fleeting, but weird.  and hilarious, despite the healthy self-image i claim to have.
despite my permanent role as wife and mother, which i embrace fully,
except for these weird, random moments,
i wonder how i got here, why i'm doing this.
was this REALLY a good idea?
did i REALLY think this through?
growing up, i never imagined anything else.  
maybe i was sheltered, naive, but i was a home-body.  
traveling the world, becoming a career-woman, was off my radar.
i just thought, i'll go to college, because that's what you do.
find a husband, because that's what you do.
get married, have kids, because that's what you do.
and oddly enough, i settled in to that life quite quickly and easily.
as if it were meant to be.
or is it because i didn't know there were other options?  or think to explore them?
i ask, because some days, lately,
i feel like anything BUT a good mom.  like, 'ok.  joke's over.  this isn't the right job for me!  tell me what i'm REALLY supposed to be doing, someone:)
i'm rage filled, short-tempered, easily annoyed, impatient, strict (sort of,)
i'm SO much better at scrubbing floors, folding laundry, organizing drawers, stirring pots of mac and cheese, making beds.
but raising children?
some days, i feel like i'm failing miserably.
when my beautiful 6-year-old says to me, 'mommy?  you're using a nice voice today.  i like that.'
well, that tells me, he must not hear that voice often.
i'm SO inspired by other mom's, their patience and calm and outward peace in the life they're living, 
at home with their babies,
but when i critique myself, something seems to be missing.
or maybe i'm just being hard on myself.
i'm good at the basics, the running of the home, the organizing, the chauffer-ing.  that stuff comes easy to me.  i was born to do that stuff.
but really BEING a mom?  loving, coddling, affectionate, PATIENT, calm, present, playful and fun. . .
the past few weeks, i give myself a big, fat F.
i love my children with my whole being.
being pregnant, childbirth, breastfeeding and baby swaddling, 
up to this point, have been the greatest years of my life.  my most favorite moments.
i love my life.
but sometimes wonder if i fell in to the wrong one.
i wouldn't trade this one for anything,
but can't help but wonder if there was a mix up when God was handing out destiny's.
and when will the kids catch on?
jack aims to please me.  fearful of me and my rage and ability to fly off the handle at the flip of a switch,
gracie, she doesn't buy me for a second.
she's on to me.
if i threaten to spank her butt from a sassy attitude or back-talk,
she'll bend over and put her little butt cheeks out there.
'go ahead, mom.'
?!?!?!  
she knows my weaknesses, that i'm a rookie, that maybe i fell in to the wrong gig
and she's going to push me until i break.
and this is my life.  and our life is made up of our choices.
whether it was a mistake that i ended up in this mother-hood or not,
doesn't matter.
i will continue to do my best.
loving and raising my children the best i know how.
being awake to the DAILY reminders of how lucky i am.
and even if i feel that i'm not that good at it,
to live THIS life.
to catch my first born coming out of the shower,
an early morning before school.
the little man he's become.
and not seeing just that,
but the beauty in those little moments as a mother, the choice i made,
whether consciously or not,
how the morning sun lights up his shoulder blades,
my child.
and the thick wisps of his 6-year-old hair.
giggling as he quickly tries to wrap himself up in a towel,
'mom!  why are you taking pictures of me!  i'm naked!'
laughing but sighing a little, as my baby is now a boy.
a boy that FEELS,
embarrassment and
yearns for privacy.
but also, that he loves me unconditionally too.
my imperfections and all.
and remembering, again and again, 
how fast this time is going to go.
so despite my current low self-esteem as a mother,
that dwelling on my short-comings, my choices, my decisions,
is a total waste.
because life continues to keep moving, right before my eyes.
 {all photos taken by jackson.westerhaus, who claims, 'i'm a natural, mom.'  clearly, he got my ego.}







 

5 comments:

lsieleni said...

Love it once again! Hugs to you and the family! Miss you guys.

The Fischer Fam said...

I couldn't agree more with you on this post but especially on wondering how you got here-college, marriage, now kids. And now here I am with a growing baby bump (partly due to the cheddar potato chips next to me) and I wonder, 'seriously? I'm suppose to raise another baby??' Well I guess we are meant to do it...because we make such cute babies. :)

Angela said...

im totally a blog stalker....just wanted to let you know i read often -- coffee cup in hand. :)

i loooove those pics of you in your favorite boots and camo pants.

you ROCK, miss elizabeth.

BEES'NETTA said...

You sure are purty!

Rachael Roberts said...

You are refreshing and wonderful

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