Ever since I quit my full time job (when child #3 was born), I’ve had trouble answering that common question:

What do you do?

For an embarassingly long time I would answer some variation of “I’m a stay home mom, but I used to do something important. . . ” (well, not exactly that, but it crossed my mind).  Yes, I know being a full time mother is important — that’s why I made the choice to become one — but I felt like there was so much more to me than the stereotype of “stay home mom.”  Besides that, I hardly ever was at home. 

I’m still a (hardly ever) stay home mom, but I also teach parent workshops, I tutor, I spend lots of time writing (even if it’s online, not on paper), I volunteer here and there, and I am interested in all kinds of things.  I’m not comfortable picking one label that defines me.  I’m multifaceted.  Aren’t we all?

Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira offers a great solution in Mama’s Got a Fake ID:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All that Mom:

I’m a mom and _____________.

She suggests we think of one thing we’d like people to know about us and pair it with the awesome job of being a mom.  Some examples:

• I’m a mom and a gardener.
• I’m a mom and a lawyer.
• I’m a mom and a preschool volunteer.
• I’m a mom and a runner.

Or, go with active verbs and say:

• I raise kids and raise horses (dogs?  gerbils?).
• I write, volunteer at school and take care of my family. 
• I drive around in circles enriching my children (okay, maybe not impressive, but accurate!)

Somehow the active method is easier for me.  I don’t have to wonder, “Is it okay to call myself a writer?” when I’m perfectly comfortable saying that I write, because I do.  I guess that does make me a writer, but that’s another conversation. 

The mom and ____ phrasing serves as a conversation opener.  It connects being a mom with other passions and important parts of me.  It also provides a more accurate, natural and broader picture what a mom does and who I am.  So here’s the line I might use next time I get that question:

I take care of my family and write about my adventures. 

And help parents communicate better.  And tutor for the ACT.  And volunteer.  And run around in circles, sometimes.   Okay, I’ve got some focusing work to do!

How do you answer that dreaded question:  What do you do? 

Please check out Magpie Girl’s inspiring article on this same subject:  Speaking with Authority, and find other helpful “works for me” tips at We Are THAT Family. 

Read more of my reflections on the Mama’s ID book here.

photo credit: Sarahnaut

photo credit: Exolucere

Okay, maybe sometimes I am.  Still, in case I misled you in my recent  posts in this series (based on Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira’s book), I want to take time to recognize the amazing ways that I’ve been enriched by becoming a parent.  

Here are just a few ways motherhood has blessed, transformed, and enriched me:

1)  My heart has expanded

I don’t think I quite understood how far love could stretch until I started taking care of another totally dependent being.  It started with a puppy when I was six months pregnant (yes, a crazy idea).  For the first time I felt that loving ache– almost like a stretch in my heart.  When my son AJ was born, my heart expanded as I bonded with him.  Then NT was born looking completely different from AJ.  It seems funny, but that silly appearance factor erased any doubt I would have to divide my love.  I thought, “Oh!  This is a completely different child!”  as my heart ballooned for both little boys.  My daughter’s birth magnified my love even more, and I now understand how folks with quivers of children love each one uniquely, not equally.  I truly believe that parenting has expanded my capacity to love.

2)  My priorities shifted beyond myself

Yes, I do gripe sometimes, but without a doubt, parenting has shifted my priorities for the better.  My younger hopes and dreams were all about what I wanted to accomplish.  Now I must consider how every choice impacts my family, and most of the time that happens automatically.   By design, parenting has taught me to be less self-absorbed and more focused on others, and I believe I’m a better person for it.  As Caryn writes,

“When your day’s agenda includes learning about and enjoying the people your children are becoming, it makes sacrificing easy and rewarding–to a point, that is.”

–p. 16, Mama’s Got a Fake ID

3)  I “get” God just a little bit more

I’ve got a long way to go, but parenting has magnified and clarified my faith in so many ways.   Being a mother has shown me how God loves us for who we are rather than for what we do.  I begin to understand how God might allow us to struggle so we may grow through hard times.  And I really can see how it breaks His heart to watch us suffer, but know that he wants the best for us no matter what.  I’m beginning to “get” that, and a parental perspective has given me a metaphor to help me on my faith journey. 

Add these three to countless other benefits of motherhood, such as learning to survive without sleep, multitask like a maniac, and trust my intuition:  without a doubt, I’ve been enriched beyond measure by motherhood. 

How has parenthood (or another life-changing experience) refined or enriched you?

Perhaps I should have paid more attention. 

I knew becoming a mother would change me, and yes, I had nine months or so to prepare for it, but no. . .I don’t think we’re ever quite prepared for the impact of motherhood.  It hit me hard on day one.

I gave birth at my workplace.  It’s not as exciting as it might sound–I was an administrator at the same hospital where my children were born, so one day I was trotting down the halls in a suit and heels, and about 36 hours later, I was exhausted, elated, and quite a mess after the birth of my baby boy.  How’s that for connecting work and family? 

I was thrilled, but of course I was wiped out and feeling really grimy.   As most of you know, there’s no rest for the weary in the hospital (isn’t that ironic?) with the constant flow of nurses and all those other people who appear to check on various things.  And soon, I knew, my esteemed colleagues (not to mention family) would come knocking on my door to visit.   Unless you have a really good reason (like giving birth, maybe?), that’s how it rolls working at the hospital.

I was okay with the visits, but all I wanted was a shower.  After giving birth, you know.  Is that too much to ask?

Apparently so. 

Because every time I tried to move in that direction, someone needed a piece of me.  And when the umpteenth nurse asked for one more thing, I just about lost it. 

Her sympathetic reply:  “You’re going to have to learn, Mama, that you can’t just do what you want any more.” 

I was ticked.  But she was right.  Did I mention that she wanted me to feed my baby boy?

When I remember that moment, I still feel ticked at that nurse, because I wasn’t her Mama, her delivery was condescending, and I didn’t want to hear it.  But I also have to laugh at how clueless and self-absorbed I was.  Of course I had to delay my shower to feed my baby.  Little did I know how quickly those things I once thought were necessities would become indulgent luxuries.  Such as showers.  Or sleep.

There’s no denying it:  motherhood changes us, and in so many ways, there’s no going back.  Last week I talked about mourning some parts of the me I used to be before launching into parenthood.  I believe it’s not too late to tap back into some of those elements. 

I also know that I’ve grown in ways I never dreamed possible before becoming a mom.  The joys and challenges refine me on a daily basis.  We’ll talk about those benefits next.

But for today, if you’re a parent, when did you realize parenting wasn’t quite what you had in mind?

Inspired by Caryn Dahlstrand’s Rivadeneira’s new book Mama’s Got a Fake I.D.:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All That Mom.  Click here for my first post in this series.

photo credit: bies

I might be having an identity crisis. 

It hit me in the midst of an amazing Vienna Teng concert at our local hot spot The Ark, for so many different reasons. 

Vienna’s performance moved me.  She’s so talented, so sharp, so lyrical and poignant–you MUST check out her music.  She sings of intimate personal issues as well as major world events in a smart way that leaves interpretation up to the listener.  So I started interpreting, and suddenly, the whole concert was all about ME, of course.

I know that sounds crazy (and egocentric), but you see, Vienna went to my same university, so it got me thinking about my view of the world back then.  Like any college student, I had my whole life in front of me– a blank slate with so many options.  I wanted to do it all and honestly believed that I could.  She sang a beautiful song about world and life-changing events including the fall of the Berlin Wall, where I lived for a few months.   It was a powerful time in my life, when I first traveled the world, discovered my independence, and fell in love with a boy back home all at the same time.  Then she wrapped up with Grandmother’s Song, which starts out sounding like an old-fashioned honky tonk and finishes with a powerful message about pursuing a woman’s dreams.  It was perfect.  I loved it.

But after we got home, I blubbered like a baby.  My poor husband was so confused. 

I think I was mourning the young woman I used to be, the dreams I used to hold dear, and the passions I pursued.  Now let me be clear:  I love my life today.  I’ve been shaped and refined by the twists and turns, I don’t regret any choices we’ve made, and I wouldn’t go back if I could.  Life has led me in a direction very different from what I expected, and the blessings have been greater than I could imagine. 

I must admit, though, that there are pieces of me that I’ve pushed aside through these last few seasons of life.  And I feel like it’s time to reconnect with some parts of the me I used to be.  No, not all–I’m happy to leave a few parts by the wayside–but yes, some.

I’m reading a great book that speaks to this and much more:

Mama’s Got a Fake I.D.:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All that Mom by Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira.  She writes from a Christian perspective, but I think the issues about motherhood and cultural identity are universal.  As I work my way through this book, I hope to share with you some thoughts along the way.  Stay tuned.

For now, do you mourn parts of the person you used to be?  If so, come along the journey and let’s work it out together.   Tell me what you think.