The Blue Cup

This is me, at 3 months post partum, trying to take a nice selfie on the now rare occasion of putting on some make up. I tried a couple of different angles and then realized all of them have some reminder in the background of my status as a mom of littles. A neon plastic cup here, a diaper there, some other toy which looks a unicorn threw up a rainbow on it. There’s always something in the background that screams MOM!

I do love it but some situations make these background props loom large over my present and future. Especially when it comes to my professional life. I love my professional life. I love building a career. I love thinking about where I’m headed. I love being able to save for and spend on myself and my family. But things change significantly from the moment you get pregnant. And the volume just turns up when your kid comes earthside.

Suddenly it’s not just a blue cup. It’s frantically arranging child care you can trust so you can attend an interview. It’s stressing over your pumping schedule and hoping you can fill enough bottles for your baby. It looks like leaking milk in the middle of a meeting. It’s always feeling like you aren’t put together enough. Like you are just one more sick season from unraveling completely and giving it all up. I know I don’t have to focus on my professional life now. (It’s a privilege for sure). But what if I want to? What if I’m worried about how the longer the break in my career gets the harder it’s going to get back? What if I absolutely love motherhood but don’t want it to consume me whole?

When these doubts start creeping in I remind myself what’s been apparent as I watch my first daughter grow and now with my second baby - this time goes by really slow and really fast at the same time. It’s difficult to appreciate it while I’m sleep deprived and knee deep in poopy diapers and milk soaked clothes. But it’s going to go by sooner than I want it to. One day they will outgrow the onesies. They’ll wear their last diaper. They’ll stop asking for the sippy cup. They’ll no longer want to be held as tight. They’ll not trip over words and say aeloplane or pascetti. They’ll not look for your face in a crowded room. They’ll not need you at all one day and you’ll hope they will want you to be there instead.

I’ll have my time for myself. I’ll find my step back again. I’ll be on track for what I’ve planned, God willing.

And while I can’t completely get over the intense FOMO that all moms feel, I can try to center myself more in this moment. What I’m doing now is important. It’s impactful. It’s invaluable. Just because it’s not tied to a big company’s name with a monthly paycheck coming in it doesn’t mean it’s meaningless. It’s not a “break” from my life. It is my life. All of it. Blue cups, unicorn vomit toys and all.