I'm an angry frustrated crier. Anger comes out of my eyeballs in water form and when I'm infuriated it's almost like a full tantrum. But I don't cry much for other things like first days of school, last days of school, awards and new horizons.
Don't get me wrong, my daughter is my everything and I know I was put on this earth to be her mother, but it's not always a cupcakes and rainbows job. Let's face it, she's probably my only child at this rate, and I work hard to just enjoy every phase with her, but my cry-o-meter seems to be off from other moms.
I don't know if it's because we've had a rough 6 years but I don't cry when I drop her at school on the first day. I may well up a bit, or just feel "Wow, what an incredible milestone," but I'm not weeping with joy and love. Ew, that's not me. I'm not gushy in that way.
I cried when she was being tortured in the hospital for failure to thrive with stomach tubes and blood draws and not being allowed to take her home to heal. I cried after the car accident that she was bruised and cut, bloodied and whining while I looked at the wreckage. I cried when they found out her legs were broken and she kept yelling at the nurses, "leave me alone! Ow! I want my mommy!" I cried when I had to sleep train her and she destroyed my doll house and I had to clean up everything alone but had to stand my ground. That's my mom crying.
I've been up nights crying hoping I could care for her on my own if I needed. I've cried when she has come to comfort me telling me I would be okay or we would be okay. I cried during Irma when we were sleeping in a huge pile of uncertainty ready to face the storm. But no, I didn't cry on her last day of school.
School stuff is cute and cuddly, for sure, but she's still so little. She's not on some path to Harvard. She's just being a kid. I want to let her be as much of a kid as she can. I also work full time and have all kinds of mental health things to work out, a husband to support in more ways than one, and a household to run so volunteering to pass out juice in class isn't a priority.
I don't buy her "first day" outfits. I don't perfectly manicure pictures of her much. I let her be herself as much as possible because she is growing up fast and sometimes I just want to sit back and watch. I don't want to fight over homework or projects, I just want to sit back in awe of her becoming a grown person and know that I helped make that happen.
Any moms that make time to be very hands on are my heroes, but it just ain't me. I'm not the mom that will make fantastic snacks and set up elaborately constructed play dates. I'm not the mom that keeps her in style and up with the cool trends.
I'm the mom that feels the overwhelming emotion when I see her have a thoughtful reaction to a friend or loved one in need. I'm the mom that wells up when she decides to unload the dishwasher without being asked, because she wants to let mommy rest. I'm the mom that snuggles and does face masks and makes popcorn and lets her do what she wants (within reason).
I'm not sure where that all fits on the Cry-O-Meter for motherhood but it definitely triggers some interesting feelings. When I have other moms ask if I've cried or not I just try to play it off kindly because at this stage in my life, I'm just so happy with how far we've come and so consumed with keeping positive momentum, that I don't have time to cry over how fast time is going, rather I just want to enjoy the fact that I get to be in her life.
This isn't to say that moms that cry out of missing their babies be babies are some how inferior or "wussy" or "soft" in any way! I'm always there to hug you and hand you the tissues! I just don't get hit that way and props to you for letting it all come out!
I think we all have weird Cry-O-Meter dials and some days are better than others. I think all moms feel like they fail regularly, sometimes even daily, but what's important is that we are moms! We just have to mother the crap out of them no matter how many tears! And with those thoughts, I usher in the summer before I have a first grader. Here we go!
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