A year ago or so. One was in pre-school for 3 hours each morning, and the other was just a year old. We had lived here for under 2 years and still didn’t feel settled.
A year ago or so, we were renovating. Our house is a diamond in the rough-very rough. We saw the potential, but it’s a potential that doesn’t come cheap. After using all possible sources of saved and borrowed income, we fixed the screaming issues leaving the many whining ones to torment my daily life in this house until we win the lottery or move. A year ago or so, my house depressed me.
I’ve had no problem meeting lots of wonderful people, but a year ago or so, I took stock and admitted to myself that I was lonely. It wasn’t that I hadn’t made friends, but I missed the people who knew me when-before I had children. When socializing had nothing to do with play dates or booking babysitters, and there was such a thing as expendable income, spontaneous late nights out and travel. I was a different person then. Lighter. Freer. Well rested.
When Gabriella and I relocated to the UK, we went through a rocky period. It was a difficult adjustment moving to a country where we knew no one and where our jobs were challenging for all the wrong reasons. We were in a funk but dealing with our stress very differently. We were not there for each other at a time when we needed each other most. After moving back to the U.S., the same relocation frustrations crept into our lives-divided and conquered. A year ago or so, after having lived here for almost 2 years, we were still stuck transition and feeling defeated.
A year ago or so, I stood in the entry way of Asher’s pre-school waiting for his dismissal, Levi hiked up on my hip. He was late to walk like Asher. I was early for pick-up as is usually the case. My father was always early for any given occasion. I either inherited or learned to be obsessively punctual from him. I was deep in thought-managing my own expectations. “Only 7 more hours until I can put them to bed. Only 2 more years until Asher is in full-day kindergarten. 5 more years until they are both in school all day. Dear God, what if we have another one? Let me see that makes ...a long time. Could I possibly make it to the other side? Is there an ‘other side’?”
Another mom appeared to collect a child who was also in Asher’s class. She may have been there all along, but I was too busy counting down the years that I didn’t notice her until she smiled at me and said, “Hi, Deborah! I wanted to ask you if you’d be interested in joining a group that I’m starting. I had launched it originally in Vancouver, and I think there’s a need for it here. It’s a group for ...”
(Lactose intolerant pastry chefs? Spelunkers with night blindness? Great! Sign me up! I need to get out of this space!)
“...for women who are also mothers, but the group is not strictly about motherhood, and our meetings are child-free.”
(What? Did you say child-free?!? Are you coming on to me? Keep talking lady.)
“It’s a group that helps women...”
(Helps prevent us from packing up and running off to a distant land to escape our children? Wait, I didn’t say that out loud, right? I mean, just because I feel like motherhood has sucked the living soul out of my body with a twisty straw leaving behind a depleted, slumped mess of a shell doesn’t mean that anyone else feels that way.)
“...helps mothers help themselves and each other to achieve personal or professional goals. It’s like peer life-coaching women in the career of motherhood.”
(Is it written all over my face? “SOMEBODY HELP THIS GIRL”)
“We’ll meet once a month for 3 hours during a week day. I know that’s a challenge for some of us with small children at home, but it’s important to value ourselves enough to take that time out of the day. Don’t you think?”
(Leave the kids at home once a month? Challenge, shmallenge! I’ll leave them with someone on a park bench somewhere if need be.)
“Um, sure. I’m in.”
It was a struggle to find child care, but I knew that it would be worth it. This chick meant business because she recognized motherhood as a business; as work but without the benefits of pay or the support of teamwork. She knew that whether we’re at home full-time or at work full or part-time, the game changes once we have kids. We may lose our way during the early years of motherhood, or we may struggle with next steps as our children get older and more independent.
I don’t mean to imply that you’ve got to be lost to appreciate a group like this. Everyone can benefit from a little support and encouragement. Look at all the business networking groups and career coaches who bring out the best in our working force. Why not the same opportunity for mothers?
Lucila McElroy brought MOMentum to New Jersey, and I was at the right place and the right time when she did. Just taking that block of time to sit with peers and have meaningful conversation was worth the nightmare to find a babysitter. Beyond that, I found a bit of my old self, and I’m making some adjustments. I’m tweaking myself, if you will. And, I’m having a great time with an inspiring selection of women who are participating in the group tweak. This blog, for example, is a direct result of some self-tweaking.
Is it worth the fuss? Is it worth an entire blog entry? Who knows if I can attribute where I am today or where I’m going because of MOMentum. Maybe I would have gotten here, anyway. Maybe it would have taken me longer to find my way without it. All I know is I’ve taken the last exit off this one-lane country road on to the Autobahn of Self-Fulfilment. And a happy me makes for a happy mom.
The good news for those of you who are not located in the international metropolis of Essex County, New Jersey is that you can start your own MOMentum chapter wherever you are. It takes a village to raise a child, but who’s taking care of you?
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