Adventures in the city, in the outdoors, and in motherhood.
The past four months my seven-year-old and my three-year-old have been taking swim lessons at Goldfish Swim School in West Plano/ Carrollton, just outside of Dallas. They both look forward to their lessons every week and, to be honest, I look forward to them too!
Let me tell you why!
This blog post is sponsored by Goldfish Swim School in exchange for my children’s lessons. All opinions and experiences are my own.
My senses have gotten stronger since becoming a mom. I take in things I didn’t notice before, things a lot of people go their whole lives without appreciating. If you are a mom, and we’ve crossed paths, I want you to know what my new senses allow.
I see you, behind the curtain, working the long hours so that everyone else enjoys the show. I see the effort you are putting in for your husband, your children, your children’s friends, for the future of your family.
I hear you, mama, responding to your child when no one else heard them. and I hear you when you say you’re tired, you’re scared, and you need a day off. I hear the baby crying in the night.
I feel you, mama, carrying the weight, being the glue, and taking on more responsibilities. I feel your morning sickness, your aching feet, your tired back, your incision pain.
I taste in your meals the planning, shopping, budgeting, cleaning, cooking, cleaning again, thoughtfulness and consideration.
I smell the diapers, the milk, the stinky feet, and the morning breath that others don’t give a second thought to the needs these things mean.
I understand the love, the guilt, the joy, and the sadness that come along with motherhood.
I know it gets lonely, even though we’re going through it together.
Besides me and you and God, and those of us in the thick of it right now, there is someone else who sees and hears and feels and tastes and smells and understands and knows.
I have a sense of her long hours, her behind-the-scenes, her “meaningless” conversations, her tiredness, her aches, her meals, her love, her sadness, her fear, her fulfillment. A small sense of it.
Someone who went through it before me, for me.
My own mom.
Thanks mom. I see you now.
*Owen frequently asks how I know he did something, or is trying to get away with something, or how something will play out. My response is “because I have mom powers.” After writing this, it took me a while to think of a title. Mom Powers seems fitting not only because I use that phrase in my own life, but because “power” usually refers to doing something that other people can’t, or having a special ability. I guess these “mom powers” are just enhanced senses. The more I think about it, the more relevant it is.*
Two years ago, my husband and I moved from a suburb of Salt Lake City to Dallas, Texas. After two and a half years, we are still here, calling it “home.” But we call Utah “home” too! We both grew up in Salt Lake, surrounded by relatives. Our parents and most of our extended family are still there. Whenever we go back to Utah to visit, we get asked about living away from family. My husband and I talk a lot about if and when we should move back to Utah to be closer to our parents and siblings. Sometimes we really miss our families and sometimes we like having our space. Have you ever lived away from family? Let me know if you feel the same!
