“Here should be a picture of my favorite apple.
It is also a nude & bottle.
It is also a landscape.
There are no such things as still lifes.” ~ Erica Jong
Dear Mr. Whitten,
You probably had no idea.
Like many women, as I entered my 40s, I began fighting with my weight just a little bit more. My jeans are too tight, even my clothes from last year are snugger than I’d like. The worst part (and one I hate to admit, but I will to you guys) is that I know that what’s really responsible for the added pounds is wine consumption.
I definitely enjoy the occasional glass of wine here and there, but when I’m stressed (this happens often), I tend to drink even more than usual. Obviously, a lot of us do: Moms and wine have become a boring cliché, a too-obvious meme. We use wine as a crutch when our lives get out of hand, as a symbol to make us feel like we’re in control. Just glancing at a few wine labels at the liquor store, it’s frighteningly obvious that too many wine companies are marketing to the ‘stressed-out-mom’ demographic, like me.
Mother’s Day is on our doorstep and the gift guides are everywhere we turn. Don’t get me wrong, fancy gifts are awesome, but for me, the best Mother’s Day prezzies don’t have a price sticker on them. So, for my lucky number 13th Mother’s Day (and with three kids to celebrate it), here are my five gift ideas to give any mom on her special day. And they’re all totally free.
You most likely know someone who has experienced a miscarriage. Even if they haven’t shared their loss, chances are you’re friends with at least one person who has gone through this. Or you yourself have experienced a devastating loss. It’s hard to know what to do or say to help. Each person deals with tragedy differently, and you’ll have to use your judgement to determine the best way to offer assistance.
You have kids and you want to be a part of everything they do. You want to see all of their “firsts” and you want to be the one to experience life with them. For some moms, that involvement may end once they get to be school-aged. For others though, there is still the pull to stay involved as their kids go through school. This finds us at the crossroads of yet another “mommy war.” I’m talking about the moms who choose to be actively involved with their kids’ school vs. the ones who think that this is a colossal waste of time: the PTO Mommy Wars.
I was that mom. You know, the one who has their entire pregnancy and labour experience envisioned in her head ahead of time. The one who won’t use any drugs during delivery, won’t tolerate anyone saying the word “pain,” and has planned the perfect vaginal delivery for their first child. I wasn’t interested in having a c-section! Of course the delivery will conclude in a safe arrival and have picture perfect moments of the new, happy family.
My friends at MomBabble ran this love letter to my post baby body last year.
Dear Flesh and Bones and Heart that Sustains me,
We were first paired some 31 years ago. Neither of us had any idea what kind of journey we would be on together. I was so excited about you in the beginning. You were magical. You could do no wrong. You carried me everywhere with strong legs. We had adventures and everything was fresh and new.
I had the opportunity to reflect upon my life choices – albeit one bad one after another – and seeing how each decision, each person I encountered ended up helping mold me into who I am today. Self-worth is sometimes measured against how our parents acted towards us, or how our siblings got more than us at Christmas. We measure it in how our significant others treat us, how our kids back talk, how our bosses see us as employees. Each and every person is helping mold you into who you want to be.
There are more than a few reasons I am happy I waited until my mid-30’s to have a baby (and a few reasons I am not, but that’s for another post), and when I did give birth at 37 and decided to hit some of the mom-and-baby library groups, it became abundantly clear what exactly had made waiting right for me.
Being a people watcher and an armchair psychologist, I had a good look around. The moms were all younger than me; I wasn’t the oldest, thankfully, due to the grandmother unsuccessfully wrangling her grandchildren to the circle and the elderly librarian trying to grab their attention.
I have never been into the “earth mother” aesthetic. Do not buy me a fertility goddess statue with mammoth breasts and the planet earth painted onto its belly. Because both times I was pregnant that is exactly what I looked like.