writer mom

Somehow, I’ve become one of those moms who really doesn’t want to be in photos with her kid. (The fact that I’m often the only one who can TAKE the photo notwithstanding!) When I was pregnant, I swore it would never happen to me and yet…

• I see the double chin—which, let’s face it, is probably more hereditary than anything and yet it bugs me.
• I see how WIDE I look. Me, the one who was always stick thin (with boobs) is wide.
• I see the bottle arms. Zero shape no matter how strong they might be from carrying my child from room to room, schlepping car seats and bags of dog food.

I see the imperfections that were always there, well before this step into motherhood, and they bother me more now than ever before. The slightly ruddy nose, my habit of never really combing my hair, wearing the same “uniform” day after day of a blue promotional tee-shirt and whatever yoga pants were on hand that weren’t too tight.

And yes, before I’m reminded, I understand that my kid doesn’t see any of this. He sees his Momma, whom he loves.

And my husband is quick to say he sees the vibrant woman he married. She’s still there—and it’s easy to feel like me from inside my skin, looking out my eyes, when I’m far away from a mirror or camera.

But I still don’t like the woman I see in photos. She… surprises me. She doesn’t match up, not even close, to the mental image I’ve held of myself for so long.

Worst of all, I don’t know what I want to DO about it.

It took a full year after the c-section before I felt strong again. And yet, I know full and well that the muscles in my tummy aren’t strong—but they could be. We walk every day, at least a half a mile, usually closer to two miles, so I’m not a couch potato.

And yet…

I don’t want to live off of salads and chicken breasts. I don’t want to put makeup on every day to “look better.” The foundation and mascara take their own toll on my appearance in their own ways. I’m unwilling to wear more flattering (i.e. tighter and shapely) clothes when I’m a work-from-home entrepreneur.

So, where do I reconcile it all? Where’s the line between change and acceptance?

And most of all, do I want to be the invisible mom who isn’t in photos? What will it take to be seen? Even in photos that never leave our little family of three—what will it take for me to be happy to be in them, to see my assets and strengths instead of the huge physical changes motherhood has brought?

I have no answers. I have no plan. Only a solemn prayer:

Thank you God, for digital cameras!

I don’t understand how some moms can happily take months off work after baby arrives. It’s not that I don’t understand and empathize with the new demands on the body (adjusting to less sleep and being a human pillow) as well as how much harder it is to get anything done.

But that’s just it: what do those moms DO all day, week in and week out, for months?

An acquaintance of mine – via Facebook – is expecting her first child. She’s already posted how she’s taking 4 months off from her business once her daughter arrives. I remember being jealous at that announcement… that this soon-to-be mom’s business, finances, and lifestyle afforded that. And mine, absolutely, did not.

Before C’s birth, my goal was to take a month off. But when Ben was laid off in February… that went out the window. Ben is working, but it’s not what the old job was paying.

And let’s be real: money matters. For little things like groceries and propane and the mortgage and dog food.

I made my peace with a much shorter maternity leave.

Then something unexpected happened…

C was born on a Friday. We were home on Sunday. Tuesday rolled around and my weekly newsletter needed to go out. I had a guest article already in my inbox, I just needed to edit it, post it, and prep the newsletter. Ben took C for a drive and I scooted into my office to focus. An hour later, I was finishing up: C breastfeeding and racing a lightning storm so I could shut down the computer. When I pushed “send” I realized…

I’d missed this.

It had only been 5 days and… I was done. I was so over the non-working “maternity’ leave.
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I’m one week in as a new mom… And I’m understanding why so many moms turn into mommy bloggers – at least for a while. It’s because everything is just so new. Throw in hormones and interrupted sleep and we turn to writing as a way to process it all.

Moms, I get it.

But I’m realizing that no matter what, I’m a writer first and a mom second.

Sound terrible?

Well I’ve been a writer for nearly 30 years. I’ve been a mom for seven days. You do the math.

I will say this… a lot of those mommy blogs I read in the weeks leading up to the birth, hoping to get the insight that would ease the transition from Kim-Alone to Kim-the-Mom, well, they left a lot to be desired.

So for all you soon-to-be-mom’s out there, here’s the REAL lowdown from a Writer Mom.

Three things I wish I’d had before baby

1. Someone to hang out with

The last few weeks of pregnancy are miserable. You’re in a holding pattern and it’s nearly impossible to make plans. Because you don’t know when labor will start! You’re physically uncomfortable and mentally… well my brain was leaping around like a pea in a pot. But my body couldn’t DO any of the things my brain wanted!

Ditch the advice that says to binge-watch Netflix or read a good book. Or even to nap. NONE of that gets you out of your head. It dones’t help with the millions of thoguths (fears and excitement) that are spinning in your brain.

All I wanted was a girlfriend to come over and sit with me. (I didn’t want to go shopping – too much walking!) I wanted to just TALK and be Kim. Perhaps that would have been about the baby – but that that point I was baby-talked out. I wanted to dream about my business and hotdogs and what I’d do for me once the kiddo was here.

2. Pedicure and haircut

Make time for this. Spend the money.

You can still SEE your toes, even if you can’t reach them. And after the baby comes… well it’s been a week and I STILL can’t reach my toes because the c-section is too painful for me to bend that way. I did get a pedicure in the week before the birth – and that was perfect. I wish I’d had them cut my nails a bit shorter though. Those things grow fast and then they hurt. (TMI? Wait until you’re in labor and everybody and their cousin in in your lady bits… TMI goes right out the window. A little toenail talk will be welcome!)

And a haircut. Not a STYLE, per se, but a cut. My hair is well past my shoulders but hasn’t been trimmed in who remembers how long. Here’s the thing… it’s always in the way. And I can’t pull it back because then the ponytail interferes with how my head rests on various chairs.
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