Grandparents Parenting

Serious Mothering

May 10, 2017
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There was a time in my life when I thought my mother was suffocatingly ‘mothering’ me. Is that even a word? Well, it is now.

Who am I kidding. Even on the brink of turning 40 and now a mother myself, my mom is still this way.

Her worries never go away. The constant thinking about her children and wondering if we’re ok, offering us the best advice (even when not asked for), making sure we’re making the right decisions and so on. Oh and did I tell you that the diapers you like are on sale at Costco??! You should get some.

Thanks mom.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is my mother in a nutshell. All 4’11” of her – a small but mighty force to be reckoned with.

But I’ll let you in on a secret: as much as this drives me crazy (which is often), I secretly still need it and do take her advice ……albeit, filter through what I need. Some of her tips are priceless and when I find myself doing stuff she recommends, I can’t help but go “damn you Debbie, you got me again!”.

My mother is a nurse, so the born-with-it nurturing side of her is built in and runs deeps. She is a tremendous caregiver (and yes dad, so are you in case you’re feeling left out) who has always put the care of others first. I truly believe this isn’t something you can ‘get’ all of a sudden like the flu. You are either sympathetic and caring towards people or you’re just not the warm and fuzzy type. At least that’s my perspective.

When Nate and I had Grayson, I was so out of my league. I did have a motherly side and knew I always wanted children, but this was a huge change for me at 39 years old. All I knew was how to support myself, maintain a career that I loved and drink wine while eating oysters on the patio with my girlfriends.

Those first few weeks as a new mom were so raw, uncomfortable, physically and mentally demanding and slightly stressful to say the least. Constantly learning how to, making mistakes, worrying, asking loads of questions, not to mention recovering from the whole birth and loss of what my life was before a kid came into the picture.

Two weeks in, my folks flew in to meet Grayson and spent 3 weeks with us to help out. I’m not going to sugar coat it: 3 weeks was overkill given the lack of space and just room to do our stuff (this was my fault), but it was also priceless. Having them pull their weight in ways I could never pay them back for like taking the night shift with Grayson while Nate and I got some zzzzz’s, cooking homemade soups to freeze, cooking dinner, babysitting him so we could enjoy our first date night, changing diapers – you name it, they did it. To watch them be the amazing grandparents they are was heartwarming to me.

The list goes on and on but let me just say, that is some serious mothering and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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