I’m wondering as I lay in bed, tired and with two kids snuggled beside me why no one ever warned me about the glass ceiling. I’ve often wondered why no one warns you how hard parenting is. I’m wondering why the double standard still exists. Men bring their kids grocery shopping and they’re praised or even asking if they’re babysitting? True story. Mom does and it’s “you’ve got your hands full.” Not many mention the messiness of the beautiful chaos of motherhood. I’m wondering now why no one, not a soul talks about how hard it is to add kids to a relationship. It’s hard work! The sacrifices, the going unappreciated and unseen. Full disclaimer: as my emotions take me away, it’s not my own personal marriage or husbands I am upset with. I’m saddened by the patriarchal system.

I find myself thinking, “well society has just always been this way. Marriage serves a man and kids.” There are women out there who yearned to be a mother and housewife and I’m still speaking to you. I’m wondering if you’re ready to crush that glass ceiling? Smash those walls that social conditioning and you yourself have built. You know that it’s okay to be a mother, be a wife and still want more for yourself. You owe it to them and yourself to strive for more.

Who was she? The you before diapers, cooking endless meals, intimacy when you’re depleted or feeling unseen, who was she? What made you feel alive? Maybe it’s the way the wind blows in your hair when you’re on the back of a horse or jogging along the beach. Who was she before that glass ceiling inched closer? Did she love flavourful gourmet food or gangster rap in her car with the windows down? I hope you know that you can find her again. She’s still there…under that pile of laundry.

In my lowest of lows as I suffered with post partum depression or bringing up a baby during a pandemic, I learned to grasp at the woman I was prior to all of this. I still miss her sometimes, I’m still getting to know her. Who is she? I’ll delicately stand on the soap box any day just to let you know that it’s okay to want more for yourself, just you. It’s without a doubt, that you give so much to your spouse and even more to your kids. But if you give and give everything, what’s left for you?

I’d love to gently ask, who is she? The woman before shuffling past your husband like a ship in the night. The woman before snotty noses, restless sleeps and bath time. The woman before stomping pre teens. I bet she was vibrant, I bet she knew what lit her soul on fire. What makes her eyes light up and chest feel tight with excitement?

With my entire heart, I say all of this with the reminder that you can feel both grateful for your kids and spouse at the same time as feeling exhausted and empty. Although, I think that came without saying. I’m just here to wonder, who is she? Who are you when you’re stripped of the labels, roles and mental checklist? Who is the woman that comes before being an engineer of a household?

In the throes of stay at home motherhood, I wrote this “poem”. I’ve been an exclusively stay at home mom for exactly 3 years and 6 weeks. I left a job I loved with plans to travel across Canada in our home on wheels. As we began our trek and explored small towns, we decided to start looking at putting roots down. With what money we had saved to travel, we bought a house. We bought a house in a small town where we didn’t know a soul, I was 7 months away from having a baby. There were no job opportunities or child care. Two months before our baby girl was born, the pandemic shook the world.

Life went from lonely and challenging to depressing and well, even more lonely. I’m a master of positivity, queen of silver linings if you will but for 2+ years, the mundane felt bigger and the moments of gratitude felt smaller and hard to grasp. I chased the little moments in the day that gave me joy, trust me, they’re there if you look for them.

So, one evening, in a moment of despair and emptiness, I wrote these words.

“An old kerosene oil lamp. Giving light and providing warmth for all. 

Flickering in the wind as the oil burns down, that’s motherhood for me sometimes. I’m the flame, wavering in the breeze. I’m the flame, burning off of fumes. I’m the flame, providing for you. I’m the flame, helping you glow as I try to stay abundant. I’m the flame, fragile but powerful. 

An old kerosene oil lamp. Sitting in the corner and collecting dust. 

I don’t ever want my children to think that they burnt me out. (pun intended) I won’t give them that burden. I think as mothers, regardless of if this was your lifelong dream as you played with Barbies or it was a life you stumbled upon. I think as mothers, try as we might, it’s easy to lose the woman. I think as mothers, we can dim our flame to fuel others; indeed we do put our needs aside for those little humans. I think as mothers, we grasp at who we were before or who we thought we’d be. I think as mothers, we need to remember our robust worth without letting it flicker. I think as mothers, we need to burn bright like a mother fucker.”

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve felt a burst of inspiration to sit down + write. Honestly, I think I have just been soaking in slow, small town living. Here goes…we’ve lived in Clinton, British Columbia for 5 months. I found out I was pregnant with our 3rd child 2 weeks before we got possession of our first home, talk about milestones! Since we have moved here, I would say from the extreme of our lifestyle in the lower mainland; I have essentially isolated myself. My 2 year old son + I head to strong start one day a week. Our average day is spent going for walks, playing in the backyard + watching more Netflix than I thought was humanly possible. I’ll blame morning sickness + pregnancy exhaustion for the “screen time” rules that flew out the window long ago.

We went back “home” to visit Langley for what we expected to be a week over spring break. We had plans with friends, family, day camps + swimming lessons set up. We arrived Sunday morning, at that time there was a travel advisory + all events over 250 people were cancelled. By Monday morning, the world was upside down. Shelves were cleared, business’ were closing their doors, groups of 10+ were told to meet with precaution + fear really set in. It’s easy to turn a blind eye until the chaos is happening in your own backyard…or toilet paper aisle. I was ready to head back to Clinton, a village of less than 600 people.

I am an easy going, go with the flow, take things as they come, “it will all work out” type of person for the most part. I wasn’t worried, I am still not really worried. I’ve had moments of fear or panic, so I signed out of social outlets for a time but even in the best of times, you feel like you’re “missing out” on the scrolling + constant updates or notifications. I stocked up on groceries this morning, more than I ever have, because quite frankly, we just don’t know what will come next.

The last 5 months of living in Clinton, away from the hustle, away from the conveniences, away from all friends + family, I have learned a lot. I’ve learned how I function best as a parent, I’ve learned how to adapt to parenting alone for 5 days out of the week without help or support. I’ve learned to put my phone down more often + listen to my kids…like really listen to the same stories over + over. I look them in the eye with my full attention as much as I can remember. In the last 5 days, I feel like a lot of what I’ve been practicing these past few months have came more at ease. I’m seeing the things to be grateful for, even if minuscule. I’m seeing the light in a dark + scary time.

I have a challenge for you (I’m doing it too!) over these next few days + weeks of slow + solitude:

– call your parents, call your grandparents if you can, Skype your people + tell them how much you stinkin’ love + cherish them.
– message every. single. person (not a business, because that might be weird) in your contact list on your smart phone + tell them you’re thinking of them, praying for them, ask them how they’re holding up.
– compliment every person you see + smile, we are all a little frightened + weary.
– read all those books you have collecting dust on your shelves, re-read a favourite.
– make a cup of tea, stop scrolling + listen to a podcast. my personal go-tos are the Real Life by Jefferson + Alyssa Bethke or Rise Together by Dave + Rachel Hollis.
– try a new recipe, try it with your kids because hey, you have the time now. we are in no rush.
– take the “me time” you’ve been craving, let your husband handle the kids, draw yourself a bubble bath with some candles, maybe a glass of pinot Grigio – have a glass or two for me!
– leave a review on your favourite restaurants yelp page.
– buy a gift card online from your fave local shop or cafe.
– wash your dang hands + be beyond grateful for your health.

I might be a minority but I hope school doesn’t go back, I am loving the slow. I am loving hanging out with my 6 year old, who will only be six once + I get to enjoy it! I am choosing to see the good in the bad right now, I’m choosing it daily, sometimes hourly. I’m trying to soak up every second with my husband + children before our new baby girl comes. I hope you can do the same, I can’t help but think of the busy dad who hasn’t sat down for breakfast with his kids on a weekday for years, I can’t help but think of the healthcare workers who are going home + self isolating because they’re out there in the trenches helping others, I can’t help but think of the stay at home mom who finally can be like “THIS, THIS is what we do all day”, I can’t help but think of the people who like I was for years, exhaustingly busy, feeling like I needed to do all the things, post all the things, BE all of the things. I can’t help but think of the other expecting mamas I know (currently 12 other close friends or family due in 2020) who are just praying their little cherub stays safe inside that cozy, warm womb. In awful circumstances, the earth is allowing us to slow, to see, to breathe, to reflect. Choose to see the light in the darkness, choose to BE the light in this darkness. Be kind, slow down + just BE.