Every day as a mom is a terrible day

As a follow-up to my 3o Things I Learned from My Daughters… Mom problems. Dad Problems…
Today, someone I was with at the park pooped in their underwear and asked me to help wipe them clean. Then someone cried when I wouldn’t carry them to the car. Before that, someone climbed in my bed with dirty feet at 5am and left crumbs of I-don’t-know-what on my clean sheets, and someone stuck their finger in my nose and laughed at me. Tonight, I cleaned my whole house and then someone went around trashing all my hard work. I tried to go to the bathroom but someone kept opening the door and asking to see what I was doing…
This is a normal day. Actually, this is only a sliver of a normal day as a mom. These are moments that any rational person would define as frustrating – if not terrible.
From a normal, sane, adult person’s point-of-view, every day as a mom is a terrible day.
What’s a woman, who finds herself being a mom, to do about all this?
As a young adult I worked hard to choose good friends. I chose friends who treated me with love and kindness. If someone couldn’t respect my boundaries or be a good influence, I kept them as an acquaintance but not as a close friend. I didn’t befriend people I would have to teach how to be healthy.
Now, my closest friends and roommates are small, demanding people. People who spill stuff everywhere. People who cry when you don’t let them watch their choice in TV show. People who tell me I look old. People who never ask how I am doing. I live with these people. My mother would never […]

The Infancy of our children

This is something I wrote a while ago when I was neck-deep in caring for a newborn baby… it helped me and I pray it helps other new moms someday too. For my beloved sisters who have new babies…


“The infancy of our children. If we let it be a part of us — a part of our story, it can forever deepen our involvement in the bigger stories of life. This is a piece of my life deeply woven. Life. Delicate. Fragile. Alive.
I struggle for sleep and sanity.
Reminding myself over and over – It’s not failure, just challenge and struggle. Face it. Enjoy its opportunity for growth. Love endlessly. Give when it hurts. Teach as I learn. Kindness and respect in the midst of injustice.
[Soft hand on my mouth. Body and soul in my arms. Breath of my breath]
I get to build a soul. My work is invisible to her. This is my war and I fight for our lives.
Dear, self – Connect. Be in each moment. Press in. Don’t shy away from the discomfort.
Let the scars and wounds be a badge of honor
and not a regret.”

This is so hard, my friends – being “the mom.” So full of tensions and the sweet, torturous push and pull of being so lonely and yet never alone.  Fighting for survival – yours and theirs. No one will ever see the battles you win every day, but you will and God will and that sweet baby you hold will forever be changed because of your love. Hang in there. It will be worth it, I promise.


By |March 14th, 2013|Honest Home|3 Comments|

Have you ever been asked a personal question?

This was how my mother started the conversation.
“Do you know…”
“Do I know, what?”
“Do you know how women have orgasms?”
(AAaaaaaakward pause…avoiding eye-contact now…)
“Um, yes? …  Yes. I mean, yes. Mom, Seriously!” (laughing erupts)

How did your parents bring up the sex talk?
But, my mother didn’t stop at this first shocking question. She did not accept my protest that I already knew all I needed at 16 years old.  She knew me deeply despite the fact that it would be 11 more years before I truly understood the depths to which she knew me, when I had my own daughters to love.

(aside: isn’t it funny that as we grow up, we think our parents don’t know us? now that i am a mom myself, i could hardly think of anything i know more intimately than my daughters.)

See, my mother became a teenager in the 60’s and a single mother to two small girls in the 80’s. She is neither large in stature or personality.  Caring, loyal, sensitive, Indigo Girls-singing… this is my mom.

She gave me space to discover my way in the world. She usually held back advice or opinions. But, this conversation, this was just too important to leave to chance, I suppose. Too important to hope my sister and I learned it somewhere someday.

And so, one night at the dinner table, surrounded by flowered wallpaper in our little kitchen nook, my education in sex and/or “feminism” began with a loving, blunt question.
 “Do you know how women have orgasms?
There is a part of your vagina called the clitoris…”
“Wow, Yep. Yes there is… Thinking about it right now, Mom. Thanks.”

Within that awkward, sweet conversation, my mom enunciated one of the most important things I have ever learned […]