STEVE SMITH -- What’s Up?
Part of what I do for a living keeps me in touch with people all over the
country via e-mail loops. A loop is a group of people to whom you can
send a message once and have it delivered to other “loopsters” without
having to enter all of the individual names.
My favorite loop is the one for F.E.M.A.L.E., an acronym for Formerly
Employed Mothers At the Leading Edge. F.E.M.A.L.E. members are moms who
used to be in the work force but have chosen the much harder job of
staying home full-time with their kids.
Recently, one of the moms sent this story titled “No One Ever Told Me.”
The author is unknown, but the details are familiar to all. The story is
proof of a theory I’ve had for about 10 years: moms are different. It’s
likely to be something in the wiring, but moms are so much better at so
many things that are more important than those we dads worry about.
This is for all you moms:
No one ever told me that my body would be “different” even after getting
back to my pre-pregnancy weight. No one ever told me I’d learn to
function off of three and a half hours of intermittent sleep or that I’d
quickly learn the necessary skill of juggling things, such as calming a
screaming baby, taking a telephone call, picking up a toy-strewn house,
quieting a barking dog and starting a load of laundry -- all at the same
time.
No one ever told me it would take three times as long to leave the house,
that simple errands would become major chores, that grocery shopping
would become my definition of “an outing,” that taking a drive at 2 a.m.
to get the baby to stop crying could be acceptable, or that eating dinner
while it was still hot would be considered a luxury.
No one ever told me about varicose veins, hemorrhoids, aching arches or
insomnia, or that there could be so many self-proclaimed experts
continually telling me what to do with my child, pointing out everything
I was doing wrong. No one ever told me I’d very likely cry at the drop of
a hat.
No one ever told me I’d learn all the words to Barney, Wee Sing, Disney
and Raffi songs, or that I’d know all the character names on Sesame
Street, Little Bear and Blue’s Clues and at what time and channel the
programs could be watched, any given day of the week.
No one ever told me that hearing the words, “I love you too, Mommy,”
would make a bad day turn good in an instant, or hearing “I missed you
Mommy,” would make me feel so happy to be home.
No one ever told me how fun a trip to the zoo, a movie or even the
grocery store could be when seen through the eyes of a child. No one ever
told me how the smallest things, such as a child first noticing the dust
floating in a ray of sunlight or the raindrops dancing on the windshield,
could bring me so much happiness, or that they’d be the first things I
told my husband when he got home from work.
No one ever told me I’d struggle at times to maintain my own identity, or
that I’d need “alone” time only to find that about an hour away from my
child, I would be ready to go home again. No one ever told me I’d burst
with joy as my baby reached her earliest milestones; or that I’d secretly
grieve over those same accomplishments as they signified the departure of
my baby’s fleeting infancy.
No one ever told me I’d have a second shadow, following me around
everywhere. No one ever told me that before I knew it, my littlest shadow
would be independent of me. No one ever told me that time would move so
fast.
No one ever told me I’d appreciate my mother so greatly. No one ever told
me I’d come to reality of my own mortality. No one ever told me I would
be so overwhelmed, so awe-struck, so excited and so nervous when I
brought my tiny baby home.
No one ever told me my husband and I would reach a new level in our
relationship; something better than we’d ever experienced. No one ever
told me I could love another being so fully, so completely, so selflessly
and unconditionally.
On becoming a mother, no one ever told me I could feel so fulfilled.
To all moms -- foster, adoptive and birth -- thank you, and happy
Mother’s Day.
* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and freelance writer. He can be
reached via e-mail at o7 stsmth19@idt.netf7 , or call our Readers
Hotline at (949) 642-6086.
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