At thirty years old I had never won anything in my life. Not at raffles in piñatas as a kid, not in seventh grade when Marcela and I filled a whole Super Selectos sticker album for a chance to win a car (never mind that neither one of us could drive) ,and not when I repeatedly bought lottery tickets from the guy who sold them right outside the Courthouse.
The first time I ever held a winning ticket was at an American Chamber of Commerce event where I won a stay at the Decameron- then fairly new and the only all inclusive beach hotel in El Salvador. I had never been, and people hyped it up- it had a bunch of different restaurants, drinks by the pool all day and even a club.I am not sure if my excitement was due to the mere fact of having won something -anything- or the staycation itself. I was still riding my winning high when my attention turned to the but- it's all good until the but- otherwise known as the fine print. That very small paragraph that does not initially jump out at you, designed to not be discovered until it is too late to figure out you didn't get full disclosure up front. In said print it was stated that I could not use my vacation: 1)on weekdays except Wednesday, 2)on weekends, 3)on holidays and 4) after Dec 31st 2009. It was November.To this day I have never been to Decameron.
At thirty five I became pregnant with Finn. For forty weeks I listened to every woman I know's take on pregnancy and maternity. They warned me about everything and fed me their wisdom and experience-whether I wanted it or not. The anti stretch mark potions that work, how to pump more than you need so you can freeze some,how to deal with the hazards of breastfeeding ( the gel pads don't work btw), what to pack in your hospital bag, how to avoid nipple confusion, and what store has the cutest pregnancy clothes. I was introduced by these women to things like the Bella Band and Gin Gins, Diaper Genies, the glow in the dark pacifier, and the Mixie.(The latter is is the most awesomesesest invention since velcro). I was inundated with information in the form of advice, warnings, opinions, and product reviews. There was nothing to expect that I wasn't already expecting. Except this: Nobody showed me the fine print on becoming a mother-that shit is final sale.
I am technically a stay at home mom now. I say technically because until now I have been pretty good at finding projects to keep me out of the house- enough to feel productive and enough to feel like my activities have purpose. At first I felt preoccupied with what was next but relaxed when my friend Jen -whose credentials boast all around amazing down to earth person -uber banker-mom of four, told me all of it could wait. "Right now " she said, "you need to take your time, and learn how to be a mother." And that's what I did, I got to know my kid, I read more books than I did in law school, pestered my baby authority friends round the clock with questions, found balance between formula supplements and breastfeeding, and bought organic clothes made from free range baby alpacas or something.
Then summer rolled around and I will say it -I felt bad for people with jobs. It was awesome to have the freedom to take my kid to the beach every day. I bought him an SPF tent that took half an hour to set up and that I have never learned how to fold properly into the tidy little bag it came in. I SPF'd the shit out him, geared him up polarized baby glasses and everything. A little Coppertone probably would have done the job- but new mammas.. we are like that. We like to spend it.
Fall came and went- days passing quickly with fundraising for a kids charity that is very dear to me. I believe everyone reading this may have received a request to jump into the Teleton USA bandwagon.The idea came solely because of Finn. I am not do gooder, in fact some could argue that I am a do badder- but I have my eyes open, and it's all it really takes to realize how good your kid has it and what shitty cards other kids have been dealt. And it makes you want to do something to even out the playing field for them-even if its a tiny bit. I pestered everyone I know and everyone I don't know to donate, and went to bed every night with a sense of pride and purpose thinking "you did good today".
Now it is 2015 and the holidays and their distractions have passed. It has been a full year since Finn's debut into the world and I am finding myself increasingly restless,unsatisfied and plain bored. I feel angry- and a little cheated. I have become somebody's wife and somebody's mother. But unless latched on to one of those labels it's getting harder to see myself .Motherhood as presented to me was supposed to be EVERYTHING and it was supposed to make you feel 100% satisfied and proud of your life. You're supposed to take credit for your kid's teeth, and sleeping habits, and cute clothes and wear it like a crown.
What confuses me is all I ever hear is how people want stop working so they can enjoy their family- and how girls in my position are lucky. I know it's great to have a choice. I'm not stupid.It's great to be there when your kid cries and be the one to give them that make-it-alright hug. It's great to know I am the only person in the world he will ever call Mama. But the fine print is that there is more to life- and as good a job you think you're doing a part of you wants to find a sense of achievement in daily activities that don't include shopping, changing diapers or sitting around coffee shops with equally bored women. The fine print is that your days are anchored by set children's activities, and are organized around someone else's naps and needs. That you will eat standing up, in your denim shirt and sneakers, completely and utterly alone while your husband gets to wear a suit and go to a city that exudes stimulation every day. In comparison you get the feeling that you live in a parallel Lilliputian universe where the only other inhabitant can't quite master the English language just yet. You know the name of every Bubble Guppy but you don't even know what's appropriate to wear out anymore.
And then there's the REAAAAAL fine print.
-When your kid kisses you and hugs you time stops. NO ONE, I repeat, NO ONE ELSE can do that.
-Your sense of achievement will come-but it will take years. All these seemingly mindless daily activities and playgroups will help your kid not become a derelict psychopath and have respect for women.
-You don't use your brain much, but man do you use your heart.
-He will undoubtedly, one thousand percent make you a better and more compassionate person.
-Some of those women in your same boat will become great friends.
-Last but not least..jobs will always be there, but your child will move on from you in a blink.
Anybody wanna have lunch?
