One of these things is not like the other...
One day my husband and I went out for a late breakfast (pre-kids of course) with two of our good friends. After we'd stuffed ourselves with bacon and eggy goodness washed down with way too much coffee, we made our way to another business in the same strip mall as the breakfast joint. It was an Afghan food market. My husband and I love all kinds of food, so it was totally normal for us to want to go into this kind of place. Not so normal for our friends, particularly the male one - let's call him Darb. There was very little English in the store: in the language being spoken, in the music playing and on the food labels. As I walked through the store checking it all out, I happened to glance up to see Darb standing in the middle of the store, eyes flitting about nervously. I walked over to him. Once I was very close he uttered very slowly and quietly, "Do you ever feel like you don't belong?"
He was intending to be funny, and he was. If you knew Darb, you'd understand. It still makes me laugh to recall that moment. It was just a funny thing for an offbeat sort of guy to say in an awkward situation.
I recount this tale because it's been playing in my mind a fair bit lately due to the place in which I currently find myself in this game of life. I find myself in a fairly foreign land feeling like I don't belong. It's the land of motherhood.
Wait! you say, ever the astute reader. Have you or have you not been doing this motherhood thing for going on three years now? Should you not be quite used to it and, dare we suggest, hitting your stride?
You'd think, wouldn't you?
Let my clarify here. It's not that I don't like motherhood. It's just that I quite often feel like, as Darb put it, I don't belong. I just don't think I meet the criteria to be a card-carrying authorized member of the group we call 'moms', in that affectionate mom-can-do-all-and-do-no-wrong sense.
I take the girls to the park sporting whatever mostly clean clothes I could find and I feel utterly shabby next to the lululemon (that somehow ultra-fashionable and break-the-bank-expensive yoga wear)-wearing, Starbucks-toting moms I encounter. Then to hear them discussing their kids' activities.
"Hey, how's Liam's watercolour class going?"
"Oh it's so great! All the kids are already Facebook friends. How are Sophia's cello lessons?"
"Fantastic. She has her first recital tomorrow. I never would have thought a two year old could master such a complex instrument - who knew?"
Given the snack bracket I inhabit, my daughters aren't enrolled in any activities that actually cost money. No, it's nothing but the free government and library programs for us. Except I can't seem to get us registered for the ones that require it - and these of course are the best ones. Registration day is completely insane for these programs, given their freeness, so they fill up quickly. We're talking minutes after registration starts. And the thing about it that makes me feel like I don't belong is I can't ever seem to beat the lines. I just don't know the tricks of the trade to get us in. But lots of other moms obviously do or I wouldn't be butting up against them.
I also feel like I don't belong to the motherhood sorority in the creativity arena because I can't seem to locate it. I may be the least visually creative person I know. This kind of creativity is especially important with a toddler who loves to do crafts and as luck would have it, I've got myself one those. I do the best I can. This is not to say that I don't like doing crafts, because I do. I just need someone to come up with a fabulous idea for one and walk me through how to do it step-by-step. I've come to the startling realization that in my daughters' lives, that someone is supposed to be me. So I get craft books from the library, I check out ideas online. But none of it comes naturally to me and so, again, I feel like an amateur mom.
These kinds of shortcomings - or, let's say limitations (does that sound any better?) - make me feel like I'm just barely treading water in the ocean of motherhood. It probably doesn't help that our siblings and friends haven't taken the plunge into having kids so there's no one to milk ideas from, or at least bounce ideas off of. Being fairly shy I tend not to acquire new friends all that easily so breaking into the lululemon circles isn't the easiest feat for me. So come on friends and family - do me a favour, have a kid or two and help a momma out, would ya? Please?
For the record, I don't think I'm necessarily a bad mom, just one that doesn't quite measure up. I'm pretty sure my daughters will turn out okay even if their lives lack fabulous crafts and the most expensive extracurricular activities. It's just hard not to feel sub-par sometimes. Like I'll never truly be a part of the true blue Mom (capital 'M') club.
By the way, there's a plethora of other ways that I feel maternally inept, lest you be concerned that this is all that's wrong with me. I'm just afraid to admit any more (I've probably already said too much), in case one of you decides to alert the authorities.
He was intending to be funny, and he was. If you knew Darb, you'd understand. It still makes me laugh to recall that moment. It was just a funny thing for an offbeat sort of guy to say in an awkward situation.
I recount this tale because it's been playing in my mind a fair bit lately due to the place in which I currently find myself in this game of life. I find myself in a fairly foreign land feeling like I don't belong. It's the land of motherhood.
Wait! you say, ever the astute reader. Have you or have you not been doing this motherhood thing for going on three years now? Should you not be quite used to it and, dare we suggest, hitting your stride?
You'd think, wouldn't you?
Let my clarify here. It's not that I don't like motherhood. It's just that I quite often feel like, as Darb put it, I don't belong. I just don't think I meet the criteria to be a card-carrying authorized member of the group we call 'moms', in that affectionate mom-can-do-all-and-do-no-wrong sense.
I take the girls to the park sporting whatever mostly clean clothes I could find and I feel utterly shabby next to the lululemon (that somehow ultra-fashionable and break-the-bank-expensive yoga wear)-wearing, Starbucks-toting moms I encounter. Then to hear them discussing their kids' activities.
"Hey, how's Liam's watercolour class going?"
"Oh it's so great! All the kids are already Facebook friends. How are Sophia's cello lessons?"
"Fantastic. She has her first recital tomorrow. I never would have thought a two year old could master such a complex instrument - who knew?"
Given the snack bracket I inhabit, my daughters aren't enrolled in any activities that actually cost money. No, it's nothing but the free government and library programs for us. Except I can't seem to get us registered for the ones that require it - and these of course are the best ones. Registration day is completely insane for these programs, given their freeness, so they fill up quickly. We're talking minutes after registration starts. And the thing about it that makes me feel like I don't belong is I can't ever seem to beat the lines. I just don't know the tricks of the trade to get us in. But lots of other moms obviously do or I wouldn't be butting up against them.
I also feel like I don't belong to the motherhood sorority in the creativity arena because I can't seem to locate it. I may be the least visually creative person I know. This kind of creativity is especially important with a toddler who loves to do crafts and as luck would have it, I've got myself one those. I do the best I can. This is not to say that I don't like doing crafts, because I do. I just need someone to come up with a fabulous idea for one and walk me through how to do it step-by-step. I've come to the startling realization that in my daughters' lives, that someone is supposed to be me. So I get craft books from the library, I check out ideas online. But none of it comes naturally to me and so, again, I feel like an amateur mom.
These kinds of shortcomings - or, let's say limitations (does that sound any better?) - make me feel like I'm just barely treading water in the ocean of motherhood. It probably doesn't help that our siblings and friends haven't taken the plunge into having kids so there's no one to milk ideas from, or at least bounce ideas off of. Being fairly shy I tend not to acquire new friends all that easily so breaking into the lululemon circles isn't the easiest feat for me. So come on friends and family - do me a favour, have a kid or two and help a momma out, would ya? Please?
For the record, I don't think I'm necessarily a bad mom, just one that doesn't quite measure up. I'm pretty sure my daughters will turn out okay even if their lives lack fabulous crafts and the most expensive extracurricular activities. It's just hard not to feel sub-par sometimes. Like I'll never truly be a part of the true blue Mom (capital 'M') club.
By the way, there's a plethora of other ways that I feel maternally inept, lest you be concerned that this is all that's wrong with me. I'm just afraid to admit any more (I've probably already said too much), in case one of you decides to alert the authorities.
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