Being a Mother Has Changed Me

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Being a mother has changed me in a lot of ways. It has also changed the life I am living. I think it is still important to differentiate between those two things. I am not the life I am living, which now consists of dirty diapers, slow walks around the block, and the occasional play date. I am more than a mother, even if my circumstances would say otherwise. But motherhood has seeped into the cracks left open for growth in my younger years and definitely changed my core self.

I have become better at multitasking. 

I have always been decent at multitasking. At any given time in my life, I have always had several balls in the air. I have rarely needed to write down details or make lists to remember things (but I do, because I love lists, and I love checking things off of lists). Watch an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer while writing a paper and making dinner? You can bet that the spaghetti was not burned and the paper got an A.

Now, though, this multitasking, and more of a MULTITHINKING skill has gone into overdrive. I have a constant list running in my head of Peatuk’s doctor’s appointments, where each item of his (and his father’s) clothing is, what I have to pick up at the store, how much money I have made this month… the lists go on. Sometimes Nikola asks me something and I am honestly amazed that I know the answer. But I do. I almost always do.

My Internet History Has Gotten More Colorful 

Before, my internet searches generally included workaway programs, travel destination, outdoor gear and philosophical forums (of which I have still yet to find one that satisfies me, even a little).

Now it is all about the proper way to collect a fecal sample from an infant and how to have a healthy sex life when you are sharing a bedroom with a toddler. Yeah, more colorful, but probably less interesting to the average person.

My Preferred Season Has Changed 

I used to be a summer child. I loved the long, slow days. The freedom of summer. The hot nights that made me feel restless. The boiling of my blood. The romance. (There was always summer romance). The adventure. Fall always seemed somewhat sad to me and in spring, just like a little bunny, I would get this manic, crazy energy waiting for summer to start.

This year, the majority of summer was dull and hot. Being married. Settled. With a baby in tow. The chances of that new summer romance (or even a rekindling with my husband) is almost nil. And sleeping three to a bed in the middle of summer without air conditioning is… well, hot, and not in a great way.

But fall! This year I feel such potential in fall. Making the decision to send Peatuk (part time) to day care has been really difficult, but I do feel like I will be able to get a little bit of my self back, which is important. The cooler days are lovely. Night falling earlier makes for dark evening walks, which Peatuk loves and seem so much more exciting. Now, the changing into fall seems so much more interesting than the changing into summer used to be.

I wish I could say that I am more patient. More kind. Honestly, my patience has been tested to the extreme in the past year, and I know it is an area that I have a lot of room to grow. Maybe having Peatuk has helped me start that process, but I have certainly not reached ideal capacity in that area.

I have more confidence in some areas, less in others. I have more fear. I give fewer fucks about what other people think (I didn’t think that was possible, but it really, really was.) I have crazy nesting syndrome.

I have changed in many ways. Some good. Some slightly neurotic. I am definitely not one of those people who was “ready to be a mother,” and I will never be the “ideal mother,” but I will learn and change and grow as a person, and I think I am doing okay.

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