Becoming a mother is like...

Becoming a mother is like joining the circus.

No formal education is needed but clown school might be helpful. Necessary skill set includes stamina, energy, and humor. You get to wear funny clothes and act like a goof ball.

But circus life is not always as glamorous as it appears – it involves a lot of hard work and sacrifice. You will be asked to work odd hours, weekends, and holidays. You will need to perform even when tired, sick, or in a bad mood. Oh, did I mention that the pay sucks.

Yet despite all the hard work and sacrifice, being part of a family and making people happy is the ultimate reward. You live to laugh and entertain and love.

On Mother's Day, go to www.getbornmag.com/blog for a special message about becoming a mother from editor Heather Janssen AND be entered for free, fabulous schwag to splurge your fabulous self from participating get born advertisers.

Skydiving Souvenir (or, Becoming A Mother)

Becoming a mother is like being dropped from a small aircraft into the ocean from 12000 feet. You prepare for it by putting on a parachute and a life jacket, but when you hold up your ticket with two pink lines, board the plane and take off, you're struck with horrible air sickness. What were you thinking? Then the plane hits some altitude and you cruise for a while enjoying the ride. But fear strikes again as you near the point of departure. That first leap - the squeezing tightness in your belly - there's no turning back. You get a surge of adrenaline and fear and joy and craziness. When the parachute opens you begin to enjoy the ride down. But not for long. You begin to spin, to flail, to realize how quickly the ocean is approaching, and with great pain you and the ocean collide. You take a gasp of air and hold your breath. This is it, the moment of becoming. Push through! Under the water you are rolled and swayed dizzy. Your arms find a soft object and hug it close. Finally you struggle to the surface where you realize, for the first time, that the life jacket you carefully packed along does not fit you at all but it's just the perfect size for the seven-pound person you found there under the ocean and dragged with you up to the wave-tossed top.

And there you are, treading water in the middle of a vast sea. It's very disorienting, the constant buffeting of the waves, endless straining, incessant protection of that precious gift you hold. But in time, as days and weeks pass, you find you are able to swim with increasing skill, guard with greater confidence, and navigate with clearer direction. Eventually your feet find solid ground and you emerge bedraggled on the shore. Gazing down again at the perfect souvenir of your skydiving adventure cradled carefully in your arms, you know it was worth it, and you will never be the same.

On Mother's Day, visit Get Born Magazine at www.getbornmag.com for a special message from editor Heather Janssen AND to be entered for great prizes!

I'm not the "fun mom"

There are all types of moms out there - the crafty mom who makes the kids' Halloween costumes and Christmas Stockings every year, the gourmet mom who makes homemade meals from scratch, the cool mom who is up to date on the latest trends and then there's the fun mom who does silly things like puppet plays and making tents from couch cushions.

I'm not sure what type of mom I am, but I know for sure that I am not the "fun mom". In the four years that I've been a pseudo stay-at-home-mom (a working mom that has the hours and responsibility of a stay at home mom?), I've never enjoyed imaginary play with dinosaurs and cars or crafted little creations from Play-doh. I've enjoyed reading to them and cuddling, for sure, and we have lots of laughs tickling and making funny faces, but the fun and silly part of parenthood has been left up to my husband.

I often wonder if the daily grind of diaper changes, potty training, tantrums and discipline have zapped me of all my "fun mom" material. Maybe that's why it's easy for my husband to be the fun parent; he's been gone all day and hasn't had to deal with any of the insanity. He comes home to kids excitedly running to the door yelling "DADDY IS HOME!", snuggles and video games, bed time stories...the fun stuff.

I also often wonder what type of mom my boys will think of me as when they are grown. Will I be the constant nag always telling them to pick up their toys? Will I be the neglectful mom because of the work I do? Maybe the tough mom because I have high expectations.

Whatever the case, I can't help but feel a bit guilty that I'm not the "fun mom".

Kristin Mastre

The Chicken or the egg?

Kristin wonders if I'm crazy to keep myself busy of if I'm busy to keep myself from going crazy. That was my facebook status update sometime last week. I have been so busy, especially last week. It got me thinking. I tend to take on a lot - activities, responsibilities, obligations - do I do this because that's just how I roll or do I do this to escape from everything else?

I still can't tell.

I had quite a few "extracurricular" activities going on; a night out for margaritas and dinner with some friends one night, wine and cheese with others another night, cooking club, writing group, workouts all in addition to the kids activities of sports, playing at the park and a baby shower. At almost every function, I was asked "How do you do it all? You are so busy! Do you ever sleep??" Jokingly I would respond "It's the 6 cups of coffee I drink everyday", which really is the truth. Many times I ask myself this same question. How do I do all of this? I just do, I guess. Because I don't know what else I would do if I didn't.

Sometimes I think I would be absolutely miserable if I wasn't busy. If I was at home doing "home stuff" with the kids, lounging around in pajamas, coloring, playing with play-doh and watching them play with cars for hours on end - I would go nuts. Boredom doesn't sit well with me. I tend to get bored easily, but when I'm bored I'm left alone with my thoughts which, depending on what's going on, could be a bad thing. The busier I am, the less I think, the happier I am. Maybe being busy is my drug. Much like how some escape through drugs and alcohol, I escape through groups, clubs and friends.

Weird.

What's even more strange is when everyone is asking me how I do it all, in my head I'm thinking, if you're not as busy as I am, what are you doing all day?

Kristin Mastre

I can do it all myself!

From the day a woman sees the two pink lines on a positive pregnancy test, it starts. Unsolicited advice. Also known as “assvice” (a personal favorite description of mine). For some odd reason, everyone from the grocery store clerk, the mailman, the strange old lady gassing up her car to your Aunt Edna will give you any and all advice they can come up with on how to raise your own child.

“Don’t hold them too much. You’ll spoil them.”

“Make sure to start feeding them rice cereal in the bottle when they are born so they start sleeping through the night.”

“Put some socks on that baby! It’s 80 degrees out and his feet will get cold!”

Then there’s the parenting choice debates: Formula feeding versus breast feeding, to cry it out or not, to vaccinate or not, to sleep on their back or their stomach – really, the list is almost endless.

I never understood why everyone else cared so much about how I (or any other mother for that matter) took care of my children. Why was it anyone else’s business? Why did people think I was so incapable of figuring it out on my own? This was the aspect that bothered me the most. I am a figure-it-out-on-my-own kind of person. I have always been that way and I will be this way forever. I readily admit that Google is one my life essentials next to air, food and coffee. I hate to ask for help and you know if I do ask, then I must really need it. I think most everyone that I associate with knows this about me and while they still offer help, they are not offended when I turn it down. Well, most of them anyway.

Everyone with the exception of my Mother-in-law.

Mothering techniques have evolved over the years. When my husband and I were babies, there were no such things as car seats, outlet covers or properly spaced crib slats and nobody dared to question the advice of their pediatrician. Everyone just did as they were told, no ifs, ands or buts. New mothers depended heavily on their own mothers, their mother-in-laws and their grandmothers (if they were still alive). The “it takes a village” philosophy was strong. And then? We entered the age of information.

Technology changed everything, even motherhood. We became connected to medical websites, parenting circles grew and we found mothers all over the world experiencing the same challenges with their children of the same age. We are able to find the most up-to-date information on how to raise our children at the click of the mouse and the old child-rearing advice passed down from generation to generation fell by the wayside (like giving a baby Karo syrup for constipation). I think technological evolution has hurt some feelings. At least it has in our family, anyway.

While the “assvice” still comes from random people and I just blankly smile and nod while trying my best not to blurt out “mind your own business” (which has actually happened before – another story for another time), the fact that I don’t follow what has been done for generations, or acted like a helpless child when trying to care for my babies has ruffled some feathers. My “I can do it on my own” (or “I can do it all myself!” as my older son likes to say) attitude combined with being born in the age of information has not been the ideal combo for those who expected to be apart of the “information from the village”. I think a lot of moms in this generation may be in the same situation. Technology has changed not only the way we mother, but the way we relate to older generations in regard to parenting.

My feeling is that older generations take offense to technology and the evolution of motherhood because it may seem like they were doing it wrong years ago when nobody knew any better. There may have been certain expectations of involvement that aren’t being met or communicated about. At any rate, the internet has become the divider in some families. Somehow, being self-reliant has become an insult and disrespectful.

I think it would help if people thought about motherhood like any other relationship. It’s going to change. It’s going to get better. When you get married, your relationship changes and evolves over the years. When you grow up with siblings, your relationships change as you mature. Motherhood is just like that and when you add different personalities or ways of doing things and the decade that we live in now – it’s not your mother’s way of doing things.

Kristin

When does motherhood get easy?

Years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, I didn’t have the ability to comprehend what lay ahead. I was completely focused on my pregnancy and the new addition to the family. In the early years, it’s easy to get caught up in the “baby-ness” of it all. There is such excitement about the cute little clothes, decorating the nursery, and picking out the perfect name. Of course, these things are great fun and they should be! Having a baby is truly the greatest life transforming event that we experience in our lives, but it is not as easy as I once thought it would be.

The baby years are all-consuming. Every ounce of energy is directed toward this tiny helpless being. I remember thinking that this is probably the hardest stage of motherhood and that my life would surely get easier as my babies grew up. They would become more independent and when they could do things for themselves, I would have my freedom back. There would be no more crying and screaming in public and no more toting a suitcase of baby paraphernalia with me at all times. What I failed to comprehend at the time is that it never gets easier.

The years passed and my kids became a little bit older and a little more independent. Surely this was the time when it would get easier. My kids could get their own food from the fridge, were potty trained, and were somewhat rational. I saw a vision of myself in a lounge chair in the backyard, sipping a drink and reading, while my little darlings frolicked happily in the backyard sprinkler. Unfortunately, my imagination and reality did not align as I had planned. Yes, I have sat outside while my kids played. But, instead of the calm and relaxing scene I envisioned, a more typical day went very differently. One kid pushes the other, at which time the pushed one falls into a pile of dog poop and screams. The youngest one, oblivious to his sisters’ fight, wanders towards to the far edges of the yard in pursuit of the dog. It’s hard to comprehend what you are reading when you are constantly monitoring the perimeter of the yard with quick glances and refereeing fights. I put my book down and repeat to myself, when my kids get a little older, this will be easier.

Now my kids are older. One is in college, one is in high school, and one is entering middle school. Years ago this is when I thought it was all going to get real easy. How wrong I was! When they are little, at least they are within your control and influence.

We now have meaningful adult conversations. However, I never realized that the meaningful conversations would revolve around topics such as drugs, alcohol, and premarital sex. I never imagined this, but this is what we as mothers must do these days.

I once again lose sleep at night, but it’s not due to a crying baby. It’s due to the anxiety caused by a teenage daughter who has just gotten her driver’s license and doesn’t come home on time. It is the fear that if the phone rings at night and the kids are out with their friends, that it is going to bring tragic news.

My kids are my life and my soul. I worry about them all of the time.

Being a mom never gets easy. It just changes.

Peggy McNeal

Nothing like Samson

As a second time mother, I clearly remember some of the pitfalls that occur during the first few months of motherhood; the lack of sleep, the dramatic change in lifestyle, the loss of your sense of self. First time moms are caught by surprise but after that, you know what to expect when it comes to finding balance in your role. Or so you think.



After my first son was born, I was quickly sucked into Mommyhood. I was his mother first and foremost, everything else took a backseat. I was busy in the routine of breast feeding, diaper changing, cleaning up spit up, not showering, not working out, not taking care of myself and not paying much attention to anything else. The first sign that I was loosing Me was when I flipped out over my husband making a trip to Home Depot after work to pick up some screws. After being housebound with nothing to do, that trip without me was as if he went out for a steak dinner and I was left home with Spaghettio's.

The next sign was when we moved to Fort Collins and he had plans to go to a concert with our brother-in-law. I was LIVID that here I was - at home taking care of the house and our baby while he was working and then he had the freedom to run off to party at night. In that very heated argument that night, he said the words that needed to be said. "You need friends". So true.



That night I joined a moms group and it forever changed my life. I got ready for activities on almost a daily basis (showered and put on make up!), made friendships that will last a lifetime and with workout partners, I found my gym mojo again. I found Kristin once again and tried my best to keep it that way by writing, cooking, working out and many other interests.



One thing I began to notice was that the pendulum was swinging in the opposite direction this time around after my second son was born. I was determined not to let myself go, to get lost in motherhood. I made it a point to be dressed and presentable most nights when Bill came home from work. You'd think the only thing missing was my heels and pearls. I started working out as soon as I could so I could get back into decent shape. I started cooking the family dinners again and decorating the house. I did not want to be a frumpy house wife with two kids, even from the get go. But, it slowly started to happened again and all it took to realize this was a hair cut.



Not too long ago, my husband purchased some time for me to visit a salon in town so I could get my hair done. Without his effort, I would have continued on my ragamuffin ways until God knows when. All I know is that I wouldn't have made the time for myself, let alone the financial commitment. I had my appointment in the morning, leaving my baby with him (awake!) for the first time since he's been born.



Fortunately, I wasn't that far gone but now I see that I was beginning to slip. It was a chore to get out of the door to workout and it had been that way for quite some time. My husband took on the personal trainer attitude and literally guilted me out of the door on an almost nightly basis. I was still going out with friends and got myself ready for activities with the kids. I still made major efforts in our marriage. However, I think if I was left to my own devices, we would have had many more pajama days than we did.



After the stylist handed me the mirror, I could not wipe the goofy grin off my face if I tried. I was thrilled. Not because I liked the cut (even though I love it), but because I realized that after 24/7 pony tails for months on end, I was starting to lose sight of Me. I was once again lost in focusing on everyone else - being the "wife", the "mom", the "personal trainer", but not taking much time for "me". Seeing the pile of hair on the floor was shocking. I had been neglecting myself for much longer than I thought.

I’m lucky that all it took was a simple hair cut this time, but it sure was eye opening on how quickly you can get lost focusing on so many other people and forgetting about your Self.



Kristin