We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin. ~André Berthiaume, Contretemps
On the outside, everything appears to be fine..makeup flawless (covering the dark circles that reveal weeks months years of sleep deprivation), hair styled to a T (did you notice my roots are 2 years old?), freshly washed Gap jeans (I can’t button them, but no one’s looking right?), forgiving blouse covering an abdomen that bears the battle scars of pregnancy (i.e. stretch marks). We arrive at our destination, fashionably (but not embarrassingly) late. And then it begins. The crying…first one and then the other…in unison. I’m about to join in. But I’m the “mother.” I’m supposed to keep it together.
After 30 minutes of crying (all of us…I gave in), the baby is asleep and the toddler is in the stroller, content that he won’t spend the rest of the day tied down in a car seat. I comb through my hair with my fingers and touch up my lip gloss. I take a deep breath and smooth out the wrinkles (lovely…she spit up…but the baby carrier will hide that). I walk to my final destination…now unforgivably late.
“Wow…I don’t know how you do it with a baby and a toddler” I hear that more times than I can count. The truth is, most days, I don’t either. It’s all about appearances…right?
It used to be other people’s children throwing tantrums at the Henry’s or pulling all the toys off the shelves at Target. I’d smile sympathetically at those moms who’s children were misbehaving. Today…it was my children.
As a woman, I’ve always felt that appearances were important. No matter where I went or how I felt, I always “had it together” (at least that’s how I presented myself). So when I go somewhere and my children are not acting like the perfect angels I know they have the potential to be, I get flustered…embarrassed….apologetic. Motherhood is the season of life where I often feel awkward….caught off guard. I stumble…and stutter.
But you’d never know that by looking at me. Because on the outside, I’m calm, cool, and collected. Cold perhaps? That mask keeps people at a distance. Nobody identifies with perfection.
Relationships are formed out of authenticity. It’s in the sharing of how my toddler stuck a crayon up his nose right in front of my face that the masks come off. It’s in the closet confessions of how I rarely get in a shower before noon that we relate to each other. Motherhood at times can be lonely. I find it comforting to know that my toddler isn’t the only one who pushes other children for no reason or plays with poop.
{Photo by djcodrin}
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I think many mothers can relate. Thanks for putting it out there in words.
It was definitely a difficult post to write…..