Being a Loving Mom Begins With Loving Yourself #NakedMoms

Love is something I struggle with sometimes.

Like, don't get me wrong. I love all the time: I love my husband, I love my daughters, I love my family and friends and life itself. I love loving, and it's a feeling that is coursing through me at any given moment of my day.

I'm just so stinkin' bad at expressing it.

I've shared this before, my Love Language Dilemma, and while it is something I'm acutely aware of (and avidly working on), it's an uphill battle for me. Rather, it's not that I struggle to express love. I just struggle to express love in a way that is often perceived by the recipient.

Many people love to be hugged. Many people enjoy hearing the verbalized form of I Love You. And many people enjoy the mushy gushy affectionate expression of romance. 

I'm not one of those people. 

Yet, I love on people all the time. I try to write my feelings, maybe in a thoughtful text or an email - sometimes even a handwritten card! I try to remember birthdays or favorite things of my favorite people. I try to go out of my way to help a friend in need or extend an encouraging word. In this way, I feel I show my love.  

But sometimes people need more. They need me to give the hug. To say the words. And as much as I work on it, it often makes me feel uncomfortable. My love is so focused on DOING. It doesn't embrace the BEING of love.

And I've realized how much this impacts my family, and it's part of the reason I try to stay aware and work on expressing myself in different ways. My husband needs me to hold his hand, to stop and hug him, to look him in the eye and say, "I love you. You are my love." Those actions don't come naturally to me, even if I can create them perfectly in my head or on a piece of paper. It's more comfortable for me to make his favorite meal, to keep the house clean so we can enjoy and relax, to fill his car up with gas so he doesn't have to first thing in the morning.

But he needs more.

And so do my girls. My girls need the hugs and kisses, the snuggles and giggles, the affirmative words that I am PROUD that they are GREAT and that nothing could surpass MY LOVE for them. So I make a point to do these things, even if they don't come automatically or naturally to me. I tell them every day I love them. I hug them whenever they'll let me. I make sure before they fall asleep I tell them all the ways they've made me proud and every way they are beautiful. 

Expressing my love in these ways, in uncomfortable ways, is good. You know why? Because it changes me. When I really process what holds me back from loving passionately and outwardly, it's me. I hold myself back. And I believe, truly believe, it's because I struggle to love myself. That there are parts of me that are ugly and try to forget. That there are ways I think and feel and treat others that I despise myself for. I hold back because I'm reminded of all the ways I fail my girls daily, my husband regularly. I don't love the way I should because maybe, deep down, I wonder if I haven't earned it.

Does this ring true for anyone?

If so, can I tell you something?

Something really important?

Friends?

Those are lies.

Boldfaced lies. Lies we tell ourselves, lies our society and culture make us believe. Lies that are confirmed on Pinterest and Instagram and Facebook, where we can peruse all the perfect mothers, and their perfect crafts, and their perfect lives, and their perfect ways of loving. But these are not realities. No, every life is imperfect. Every life involves failure. 

And every life, every life, deserves love whether it is earned or not.

Including yours.

Once you begin to love yourself, to embrace all your bumps and imperfections, you'll realize how deep and wide your ability to love goes. You are freed to love on others without fear or discomfort. And the loving mother, partner, friend, daughter you've always wanted to be is suddenly real.

Because Real Moms become real over time. 

And it begins with loving yourself.

On the 14th of every month, I’ll be revealing the truth about motherhood with 12 other writers. Follow the hashtag #NakedMoms to read our stories.  Here all the posts from Februrary:

Loving the Mom in Me 

by Stephanie at When Crazy Meets Exhaustion 

Loving While Waiting 

by Heather at Diary of A First Time Mom 

Present in Love 

by Laila at Only Laila 

I Loved You Before You Were Born 

by Joyce at Mommy Talk Show

My Mom Was Right About Motherhood 

by Thien-Kim at I’m Not The Nanny

Being a Loving Mom Begins With Loving Yourself 

by Steph at Confessions of A Stay At Home Mom 

I Love Being a Working Mom 

by Vanesse at Mommy Works A Lot 

How to Balance Your Checkbook of Love 

by Diamonte at Liberated Mommy

Naked Love. Learning to Be Vulnerable 

by Summer at The Dirty Floor Diaries

Back To Love 

by Brandi at Mama Knows It All

Mommy's 12 Days of Christmas

A little Christmas ditty for all you parents out there:

On the first day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

A poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the second day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the third day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

6 mismatched sneakers

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

7 lost pacifers

6 mismatched sneakers

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the eigth day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

8 unwiped noses

7 lost pacifers

6 mismatched sneakers

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

9 smashed goldfish crackers

8 unwiped noses

7 lost pacifers

6 mismatched sneakers

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

10 sibling rivalries

9 smashed goldfish crackers

8 unwiped noses

7 lost pacifers

6 mismatched sneakers

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

11 stepped-on Legos

10 sibling rivalries

9 smashed goldfish crackers

8 unwiped noses

7 lost pacifers

6 mismatched sneakers

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the potty.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my children gave to me….

12 blowout diapers

11 stepped-on Legos

10 sibling rivalries

9 smashed goldfish crackers

8 unwiped noses

7 lost pacifers

6 mismatched sneakers

5 sleepless niiiiiights

4 spilled milks

3 whiney Callious,

2 public meltdowns

And a poo-poo that missed the pottyyyyyyyyyy.

~~~~~

And we wouldn't trade it in for the world.  

Now who needs a glass of wine?

Moms: Give Moms a Chance #MotivationMonday

I'm still new to this whole school-aged kid thing.

I tentatively dipped my toes into the water with preschool, and today I find myself the mother of a kindergartener. 

Have mercy, people.

I find many aspects of being the parent of a school-aged child challenging: the effects on a child as they transition to school, emotional distress over being away from your child for longer periods of time (ie, the entire day), hoping that you taught your child enough for them to survive the day independent of you, wondering if they'll make friends, hoping no one will bully them, etc. 

But one of the most difficult things about mothering a school-aged child?

Other moms.

Being the mom of a baby, toddler, preschooler all these years has made my world snug and cozy.  I have the moms I see regularly, friends from story time and play dates.  Over the past 2 years, I've added the small circle of parents from Chica's preschool.  Since the school is only one class, it was easy to get to know and build friendships with the other parents.

This whole "Elementary School" thing, though, is another beast all together.

It's classrooms full of kids, which means classrooms full of parents. And suddenly I am thrust back into Middle School Steph: hesitant around new people, wondering if they like me, not sure where I fit in.

I know. So cool.

Little known fact about Steph: I am a bit shy. I tend to be a reserved in new situations and ease into friendships slowly. Earlier in my life, I was painfully self-conscious and socially awkward. Like. A lot. And it took a long time to find confidence in who I am, to embrace and be proud of myself. Without that confidence, it was hard to walk into a room of strangers and present myself.

I've come a long way from the awkward girl of my youth, and can now embrace situations where I get to meet new people. But there is something inside of me that always holds me back a bit. A voice that whispers untruths: lies about my looks, my abilities, my value. And just as I did when I was young, I perceive that people see me as that person. I perceive them perceiving me. I fear there are Mean Girls in the midst of the crowd. 

And it's a downward spiral from there.

Case In Point: I went to a quick meet-up this Summer, sponsored by a group of local moms whose kids go to my daughter's Kindergarten Center. It was promoted on the school's facebook page. And although it was a bit out of my comfort zone, to just show up at a playground knowing no one but my children, I thought it'd be a great way to get to know parents (and kids) before the school year started. I figured, "Hey. We're adults now. We are able to put judgements aside, welcome new relationships and enjoy the opportunity to meet new people."

Hm.

Somehow, during this meeting, all of my Meeting New Mom nightmares came true. Many of the people already knew each other from group meetings over the years. Despite the fact that it was an "open invitation" to new kindergarten parents, all the moms seemed to find their cliques and hang out with the people they knew. There were a few stragglers, like myself, undefined by a group. No one stepped out to try to introduced themselves, no one welcomed the new parents. 

So I took all the moxie I could muster, and went up to several groups in an attempt to introduce myself. The smiles were quick and polite, but any conversation quickly fizzled. I even did my best to resurrect new discussions, but it was clear that the moms I kept introducing myself to wanted to catch up with their own friends.

I felt like I was having that dream where I was in class and look down to find that I am totally naked. 

Worst. 
Feeling. 
Ever.

I left that meeting discouraged about the moms I would be interacting with this school year. Everything in me wanted to write them off: "Forget them. I don't need new friends. I have great friends. And I'm flipping awesome. They are missing out. I'm not trying again."

But friends?

We need to try.

I am motivated to find the moms I can relate to and build relationships with. I may not click with every mom. That's okay. We aren't meant to. But after that meet-up, I spent time putting myself in the shoes of other moms. I quickly realized there may be moms who are a bit like me: shy or anxious about meeting new people. Maybe they are unsure and take time to get used to new friendships. 

So I need to give them a chance.

And to the moms who have been there done that? The moms who have established friendships or are well-aquatined with the other local moms?

Give new moms a chance. 


It's easy (and fun) to spend time catching up with the people you know at functions. But sometimes we need to be the Initiators. We need to be the Welcoming Face. We need to reach out and shake hands and say howdy. We need to start (and hold) conversations, even if its out of our comfort zones or you really need to talk to Suzy about last weeks RHONJ.  

Because reaching out and opening up and making friendships may not come as easy to some as it comes to you. For some, it is a self-confidence issue. For others, it is a hurt from past friendships or just plain personality type. You never know what another person is facing, you don't know the demons she has fought. Some people just need a friend.

And because moms, ALL moms, whoever they are and wherever they may be located, are part of your community. 

Give all moms a chance.

You may just find yourself with a new friend or two. 

~~~~~

Love Grows

"Everyone says having a baby is so awesome. And it's just...not..."

She holds her days-old baby boy, who sleeps quietly in her arms. His body is so tiny, the onesie he wears is swimming over his limbs.  I look over this new mom: a nursing tank top, loose pants for her labored-yet-not-back-to-normal body, tired face, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her eyes are wet, and I can hear the tightness in her voice as she tries to be strong and hold back the tears threatening to spill over. 

Oh, how I remember those tears.

In this moment there are so many things I want to say to her. I want to tell her there are a thousand and one things that books, doctors and other parents should tell you before you become a Mom, but they don't. I want to tell her that everyone else makes parenting look easy, but every one struggles behind closed doors.  All moms struggle, cry and wonder if they are cut out for this role; but no one ever talks about it. I want to tell her that I know the fear, the guilt and the lonliness during this transition from an independent person to suddenly caring for a completely dependent little being. I want to tell her the tears are normal, the hormones reside, it does get better. 

SO. Much. Better.

Before I can share some encouragement, she looks away, wiping a stray tear, and turns her focus ahead to stare at the wall in front of us.  I hear her words with my heart before I hear them with my ears:

"I do love him. I just...don't feel love for him."

She makes her confession, part apology, part seeking affirmation that she is not a horrendous, awful person. 

Oh friend. Oh dear, aching friend. I have been there.

I remember being pregnant with Chica almost 5 years ago. The pregnancy was a bit of {read: totally} a surprise. I hadn't the time to consider, to wish, to think, to plan. One day it was just there, 2 pink lines confirming that our lives would change forever. I know so many women who struggle, toil and endure heartache to know the joy of pregnancy, of motherhood. I love those mothers (or one-day mothers), and my heart goes out to them. I cannot pretend to know your pain, but I know it is so, so real. 

When I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant, I struggled with my own fears: looking ahead completely uncertain of my ability to care for and raise a child, fear of how my life would change, some days I even mourned the pending loss of the life of just Hubby and I. It sounds so selfish, I'm sure. I was just so overwhelmed by the unknown. I had no idea how to feel.

During my pregnancy, every mother in my life shared their thoughts, feelings and stories. Many shared the unnecessary horror stories of pregnancies and births gone awry ("...and THEN the doctor came in and stuck me with a needle the size of a COW"). Others shared their very specific and exclusive advice on how you need to care for your child ("Never wake a sleeping baby!"). But the words that haunted me after Chica came involved something less blunt. 

Mothers love sharing the story of the moments they first meet their new little ones. So many women stared off in a love-induced haze as they told me their tale of laboring for hours, enduring the surgery of C-section, and finally being handed the person that had been grown inside their bodies for upwards of 10 months.

"Pure joy."

"I fell in love instantly."

"It's as though I always knew him, that he'd always been apart of my life."

"I didn't know I had more love in my heart. But it's as though my heart grew bigger the day I first held her."

So imagine my surprise, after 2 days of off-and-on labor and 2 hours of pushing, finally being handed my first baby. And I felt....nothing. Well, that's not true. I felt many things. I felt tired, I felt overwhelmed, I felt relieved, and I did feel a certain peace that the hard part was over. But as the doctor handed over my beautiful little girl, I waited for those feelings to flood me. The joy, the love, the elation. 

And they never came.

This is Chica and I the day after she was born.
This is the picture of a Mom who was scared out of her mind,
with no clue what she was doing.

A few days later, we made the scariest drive ever in our lives: we brought our baby home. And then the roller coaster began: several weeks of complete inadequacy. We had no idea what we were doing, and questioned several times a day why anyone in their right minds would entrust us with a child and send us into the world to fend for ourselves. She cried. We cried. She didn't sleep. We didn't sleep. Those first few weeks were the most emotional and exhausting times I've ever experienced in my life. I did not struggle with post-partum depression, but I was most definitely blue. And I think women need to realize that those struggles, those emotions? ARE REAL, and many of us struggle with them.

Those first few weeks, Chica was my responsibility. It was how I thought of her. She was my charge, and it was up to me (and Hubby) to make sure she was fed, clothed, clean, changed and safe. It was overwhelming. In the beginning, there was no room for love. And I will be very honest: I did not enjoy those first few weeks. I did not enjoy her. But I knew my responsibility, and commitment. And I carried on. 

Because that's what moms do. 

They struggle, they survive, they thrive.

Time passed. Hubby and I became more acquainted with what it meant to be parents, what it meant to always be in the presence of this little person. We knew how to change diapers, learned what her cries meant, and knew what needs to meet.

And you know what happened?

Love grew.

I don't know when it happened. Because that's the funny thing about love: it takes time. Love grows, slowly but surely, in the hidden places, almost undetected. Then one day you wake up, and you look upon this baby, your baby, and there it is: 

Love. 

You say to no one, "I love her." And you mean it. 

You truly mean it.

Love grows. 

It just takes time.

So all you new Mommas out there? Relax. Cut yourself some slack. You are enduring one of the biggest, most challenging transitions life will ever throw you. It is hard. For everyone. It's not just you. Everyone struggles. We all cried. A lot. For a long time. Sometimes I still cry. But things change. It gets better. You get better. And while it may take longer than you might think, Love will come.

Love. Will. Come.

A Mom Who Doesn't Let A Chronic Illness Get Her Down {Parenting Perspectives}

A post shared by Jeanene R.

~~~~~

I’m tired.

It’s a phrase I use quite often.

But its not the phrase most understand.

And I am FINE with that. I wish no illness on ANYONE.

I am a mom with Stage 5 Chronic Kidney Failure and Lupus Nephritis, and an annoying list of ugly symptoms that goes along with those diseases. BOTH of which have “extreme fatigue’ in the symptoms list… AND I am awaiting losing 20 lbs to qualify for a kidney transplant.

An average day depends on what I did the day or days before. Was I physically active? Did I clean too much? Did I run too many errands? Did I get to stay home all day with my 3 yr old?

If I was active, example, attending a family gathering, cleaning more than just one room, had a photo shoot, etc, then it may be a tough morning. Which typically includes me barely handling getting up to grab a sippy of pediasure/milk for my munchkin at 7:30, then straight back into bed while she wakes up to PBS.

Some days, I can’t get out of bed at all. I only get up to make her a quick lunch and go right back into bed.

Some days I can get up without a hitch, and make the breakfast of all champs.

My key to being a mom and living with illness is choice.

I make a mental list of what needs to be done the MOST. Because more than likely, I will only have enough energy to get one of those done.

Do I clean the kitchen or do we go outside and play til mommy needs to come back inside?

Do I make a big lunch for us, or save the energy for a nice dinner for our mini family of 3?

Its all about choice. What do you choose? Illness or life? Sadness or happiness? Victim or Victory?

And attitude. There is a silver lining in EVERY horrible situation.

Sure, I have my days where I cry in bed and wish I could just take my kid to the park like a normal mom, or have the energy to play with her somedays. Where I wonder if I’ll get to see her graduate… but I make a CHOICE not to stay in that place.

I choose to live in the NOW. I make fun in my bed when I can’t seem to move. Computer games, tv time, reading, coloring, etc. And in this my angel is beyond smart. She is a genius. Everyday I think if I die tomorrow, I have left an AMAZING little woman for the world to watch out for.

If I am feeling well, I make the best of it. We go to a park, or we run to the toy store (which she doesn’t need but if I can do it, I wanna), or make a family day for the zoo. Deep down I know I will pay for it in the days to come, but I live for TODAY.

Because TODAY is all I am guaranteed for sure.

And lastly, but mostly, God. I don’t know where I would be without Him. He alone is the reason I continue to wow my doctors of how I am able to do everything I can at only 10% kidney function.

A good attitude can make you or break you. And when you are a mom, you cannot afford to break. 

~~~~~

I was so moved and humbled reading Jeanene's words. I hope you are too!  And my greatest hope is that we will all see the world with new eyes as we read all the different Parenting Perspectives shared here.

Please share your thoughts in the comments below!

~~~~

If you have a perspective you'd like to share (Single Parent? Stay-at-Home? Working? Dad? Grandparent? Divorced? Parent of Multiples? Parent of more than 3 kids? Parent of a special needs child? Homeschooler?  Another perspective all together?), please fill out this form so I can be in touch with you about helping you share your story!

The Plight of Parenthood

I'm going to say something revolutionary, people.


So take a seat.


Are you ready?

I don't have it all together.

Gasp! Shock!


But seriously, I am the last person on the face of this earth who could possibly qualify "having it together."

Things Moms Say: Motherhood

Motherhood.  It's simple, it's complicated. You love it, you get frustrated by it. It's invigorating, it's exhausting. How do you begin to express what it means to be a Mom? Since it's Mother's Day this weekend, I wanted to challenge all my Momma Friends out there with just that question:  What does being a Mom mean to you?


My Philly Social Media Moms spent some time processing, and came back with some great responses.  Read on to hear what they had to say on the topic of Being a Mom.

What Does Being a Mom Mean to You?

What does being a mom mean to me?


It means bringing a life into this world and having it rock you. It means my life has been changed and it can never be the same again. It means never sleeping soundly because you are always aware of every move they make, every sigh the breathe in their sleep. It means never being able to look at yourself as me, but rather we, because they have become an extension of your being. Your body, your life, your heart expanded in ways you never thought possible. It means the frightening responsibility of being entrusted with small, budding lives and helping them know this world and reach their potential.  It is the scariest, funniest, most agonizing, joyous and best thing I could have ever done with my life. 

Here is what some of my favorite bloggers had to say...

"Having a daughter means I get to work through and understand the issues I had with my mom and appreciate the tough job she had to do. She didn't have a role model for her mothering. I also think about the example I want to provide for my daughter who is a bit of a tomboy. I want her to feel confident about herself. Being a mom has stretched me in so many ways, and nothing that I ever would have expected" -- Barb from A Life in Balance



"It means that I get to spend tons and tons of quality time with two little people who look like me, act like their dad, and have personalities of people I've always wanted to know. And I get to watch them grow up and make decisions. It's the best interactive experience ever invented" -- Cindy from Whatever Works



"It means I can't go to the bathroom by myself, get dressed by myself or have a hot meal. Being a mom means putting in the time and the hard work to raise my boys to be the men they should be. It's hard work but it's the best job I've ever had" -- Mychal from My Life in Mommyland



"To me, being a mom means being charged with the biggest responsibility of all - raising another human being to be a compassionate, contributing being on this earth; to share everything you know, mixed with lots of hugs and kisses with people you love more than you ever thought possible" -- Hillary from My Scraps

"Being a mom means you've been given the greatest gift, burden and responsibility all wrapped into one" -- Melinda from Look What Mom Found




"I waited a longtime to be a mom. I had a very successful career of my choosing, traveled, enjoyed life. Something was missing. Now I have a little guy to keep me youthful by experiencing the world through his eyes. It is the best thing that happened for me at the right time in my life. And when it's hard, I remind myself of that!" -- Diane from Knitting Zeal




"Is knowing I would give up my life in a heartbeat for my child!" -- Claudia from Easy Learning Languages




"It means raising kids so that someday they won't need me. THAT is the hardest part of parenting, and THAT is why moms are so dang STRONG" -- Robin from Simple. Green. Organic. Happy




"Being a mom to me means I have the honor if shaping lives, of "making people" the best that they can be. It's a job filled with love and one I take so very seriously. It's the greased gift I have ever been given!" -- Colleen from Souffle Bombay




"Being a mom means that I have the chance to show my daughter the world, fill her life with love and be on a special life journey with my husband" -- Becky from Crafty Garden Mama




"To me it means that I am lucky enough to have two amazing little children that I get to love unconditionally and wholeheartedly; it means every morning I wake up, see their little faces and remember how good my life is because I have them" -- Sarah from Finnegan and the Hughes

~~~~~

I am grateful for the reminder that Motherhood is a gift not to be taken for granted.

I'd love to hear your thoughts: 

What does being a Mom mean to you?

Share your thoughts in a comment below!