The thing about motherhood is, there is a lot of crying, oh.the.crying. And the screaming and the squeeeeeealing, and the SHRIEKING! And, it’s not all me.
This week we spent sometime in Port Angeles, Washington. Which is not hard on the eyes if you know what I mean. (I mean, The Sun! It was there too!) Scott had a work thing for that job he supposedly has and the boys and I went along for the ride. (Admittedly the location of Port Angeles, a mere 56 miles from Forks Washington, on the weekend that Breaking Dawn was released, may have been a motivating factor for me….what?)
The sun! And my son!
There was a pool! And downtown! And Poppop! Lots to do. But there were also restaurants (please sit on your bottom, don’t lick the table, put that back on the floor!) quilt shops (no, it’s not a map, put that back, no more needles! No you can’t cut the pictures out of the book!) and wandering around with very curious boys. (Yes I remember the store with the trains, no we’re not going back, yes and the store with the bird, no we’re not going back)
I wasn’t entirely aware of how stressed out I was till we were in the lobby asking for the pool code and my sons were crawling and bouncing (I’s Tigger! I’s a good bouncer!) all. over. the. place. I was repeating, just stand still, just stand still and the women behind the counter, younger and wiser than I, leaned forward and said hello to the boys, asked them their names, their ages and oh my is she interacting with them?
She was enjoying them in all their wiggly, boisterous (they only have one volume ::yell) kidness.
And I was brought up short. I realized that I had been stressed out all day trying to get them to fit in, be quiet, don’t make a mess! When its almost the opposite at home where I encourage them to make their own costumes, and animals, where yelling and musical instruments are (admittedly outside) encouraged and where messes can be cleaned up because they are just messes for goodness sakes.
I saw my children again through the younger woman’s eyes, as the joy that they are to me, and in myself I saw all the insecurity and control issues that I abhor. The person I don’t want to be squashing my children’s natural exuberance, because I was embarrassed that they are so wiggly and can’t just. stand. still.
I was embarrassed.
Of my children.
And I know why. I am an introvert by nature, public? It scares me. And so the universe blessed me with a four year old who introduces himself to EVERYONE! “Hi! I’m Moo! I’m four! This is my brother Wah! he is two! This is my mudder! Her name is Brittany! ”
Everyone.
fixing his clown hat, he is not a jester, don’t even suggest it!
He tells it all. Dare I teach him our address?
And I’m totally mortified. Each time. But I smile and try to talk, because I like to give the impression that I’m normal. (it’s hard).
Everyday I learn something, even if it’s just a refresher. There are other people who love children in the world besides me. I don’t (and can’t) have to protect my children from someone shushing them or hurting their feelings, but I can make sure that person isn’t me.
Other people (hello fabric cutter from Forks!) see my children as a gift, and tell me so, even when in a moment of stress as they race trucks up the toy aisle I answer the question “Are these your kids?” with “Unfortunately.”
Because I was embarrassed that they weren’t sitting still. And I regretted the words as they came out of my mouth but not as much as when she said “oh no, each child is a gift, they are so precious” And yeah I felt like a heal.
I love my children. More than anything. The make me a better person, the make me a more outgoing person (by force) and I never want to answer the question “are these your children” again in such a regrettable fashion.
Because there is a lot of crying in motherhood, and it’s not all them.
But there are a lot of butterflies too.
“Are you Moo’s mother? ” the teenage girl my son has been talking to, called to me from the playground.
“Yes” I sigh inwardly, “I am”
“Right on! he is a cool dude!” She yells back.
And I see my son on top of the ‘boat’ steering into the sunset, oblivious to it all, the verbal exchange, the stress case his mama can be. He only sees the horizon, and is probably thinking about fishing or Wall E.
“Yes,” I say ” He is.”
5 Comments
You are not the first mother – particularly in our somewhat odd culture that seems to be mostly about working age adults, where kids or the elderly often appear out of place – to stress about whether your kids are invading someone’s physical or aural space. Nor are you the first to feel that little boys could free us from the dependence on middle east oil if we could just figure out how to harness all that energy. There is no way on God’s green earth that your boys don’t grow up feeling loved, validated and 100% themselves. And you know all that, but since Florida to Washington is a bit of a distance to reach across for a hug, I thought I’d say it anyway.
brit, this is a great reminder that i need to try to reclaim the joy that my son exhibits. LOOK! a PENNY! yeah, people may get pissed off that he’s playing somewhere that isn’t ‘normal’ and people may get pissed off that dad is joining in and encouraging him, but that is THEIR hang up, not mine. the crazier, the better, i say. i’ll let smsmh be the sane one.
You just described the way I often feel about my extroverted girls too a T!! I revel in the way they act at home-and then I turn red in public. But everyone loves them. It takes them like 2 seconds to make lifelong friends whether we are at the pool or the grocery store. Just a great post!
Great post, per usual.
I tend to get stressed while out and about simply because I want to enjoy myself. I was feeling very selfish at BlogHer because I was so frustrated with Anjali and it was totally NOT her fault. sigh.
You know what? Those ladies that don’t smile and laugh at an answer like “unfortunately” — they’ve so forgotten what it’s like or they’ve repressed it! Ah! One of those days, eh? would have been a much better response, or something that acknowledges that clearly you love your kids, you’re just exasperated right now.
Or is it just me? There’s something about being lectured about my great kids (and you know what, they are great kids, absolutely the best!) by someone who is putting me down for a perceived attitude? Very bothersome!