Dogwoods, Spring and Mother’s Day

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Happy Spring, Readers! It’s been another busy week and on Wednesday, I crossed the Mighty Mississippi into Moline, Illinois to deliver an earnest money check to a listing agent and I had a moment- a mom moment. But wait- first of all, I need to address this real estate market. What in the actual what is happening out there?! This market is beyond intense right now and Realtors are so incredibly busy, here I am writing a blog entry at 4:30 AM because, well… that’s my free time now. I’m pretty sure that when I pulled out of my driveway earlier last week, I met myself coming home. I feel like Hermione Granger with her time-travel necklace. Except that Hermione always looked put together and I am the opposite- I’ve got sweat dripping from my forehead, my hair looks like something a bird built to sleep in and there’s a dryer sheet hanging out from the leg of my jeans. I am doing my best to master being in two places at once, but I am failing miserably. There are so many buyers out there and so few houses to sell. If you’re thinking about selling, for the love of all things holy, what are you waiting for?! Put an end to this madness! Help us get back to a normal life!

Anyway, Moline… I was navigating my way through the streets of John Deere’s birthplace, which might I add is a lovely little metropolis. The homes in Moline are really beautiful- lots of old stuff with character and charm. Anyway- geez- I’m all over the place today-

I was zipping along 12th Street and my eye caught a glimpse of a blooming Dogwood tree and I did a double-take. The Dogwood isn’t a huge tree, just a medium-sized ornamental with seemingly paper-like petals. They’re bright and beautiful and right now, they are in full bloom. What I love about a Dogwood is that it stays all bloomy for a long time- like a month- which seems unusual to me for spring. Spring is like a one-night stand. It bursts in all hot and beautiful and then by the next morning it’s gone and you don’t get to see it for another year. So yeah, a month of blooming is pretty impressive. It was sunny out that day too, so this Dogwood appeared to have this holy-like glow to it. In fact, I’m pretty sure I heard angels singing in the background as I passed it. (It’s also possible that could be the constant ringing I hear in my ears- a new thing my old and decrepit body has decided I should experience and I am just loving it.) Back to the tree- it distracted me momentarily and what immediately followed was something I have experienced for some time now- an ever-so-slight groan that comes from the depths of my Mom Soul. It wasn’t always just a subtle thing- it used to be a full on urge that came on from my gut- the kind of urge you feel as a mom when you wish you were having a baby. That has faded over time because that concept doesn’t have the same appeal to me that it did twenty years ago when I was young and had energy. Right now, in my life stage, I’m closer to having a grandbaby than a baby. But we’re not going to discuss that right now and wake the baby gods. We’re going to shut up about that and talk about something else.

Although three years apart, both of my boys were born in mid to late April. The nursery in our old 1916 Galesburg home overlooked our neighbor’s yard, where a white Dogwood tree bloomed feverishly every spring. While changing diapers throughout the day and night, that tree would always catch my eye. It was actually bright enough that it stood out against the darkness during those 2 AM feedings. So spring was baby time at our house. I’d rock those boys on the porch swing and take in the season around me- the new flowers, the new birds, the smell of everything popping its head above earth from a long winter… Those are the things that I remember when I see one of those trees and Wednesday, it hit hard and I felt all baby-needy.

All of this fresh spring air and Dogwoods got me thinking about how I was as a new mom back then. At the time I was working outside the home, so I’d spend forty hours a week doing one job and then go home in the evenings and on weekends to do, what I felt was, my more-important job. That was always a huge struggle for me. I took my domestic responsibilities very seriously- I made three and four-course meals for dinner every night like my mom always did. While other moms were making mac and cheese and hot dogs for dinner, I was perusing magazines and cookbooks for fun! new! recipes! I cleaned every week. I did laundry until 1 AM. I’d make sure all the socks matched and were folded nicely. The baby socks. Yes, the tiny baby socks. I mean, why in the actual hell was I even washing them?! Baby feet don’t get stinky or sweaty. They don’t wear work boots all day and come home all gamey. Seriously. What was I thinking?! Then, after I had completed my circle of madness, I’d go to bed for a few hours, get up and start all over. You know the routine. I’m not the only mom that ever did it. I was thinking about how perfect I always wanted everything to be and quite honestly, looking back, I think about how ridiculous that was.

I remember my mom-in-law telling me at the time that I needed to learn to let some things go. I thought that was funny at the time because her home was always so perfectly clean and beautiful and she had six kids, so surely she understood where I was coming from in my quest to be perfect. Years later, I brought that up to Scott one day and he laughed and said, “Mom’s house wasn’t perfect until all us kids moved out!” That information was incredibly insightful to me at the time, and would’ve been useful from day one so I’m not sure why everyone kept that from me. But it was a game-changer and it was then that I realized Mom McGrath was right- I needed to chill.

I wish she was standing here in my living room right now, because I have actual proof that I am the most chill mom that ever lived. This place is a disaster- there is stuff everywhere in places it doesn’t belong. And I feel like I’m growing attached to the layer of dust on everything- it feels like some kind of contest- how LONG can I actually go without dusting the surfaces in my home and how HIGH can a layer of dust get? Not sure, but tune in next month to see where we’re at.

Mom McGrath! I made it! I no longer care!

The point is, I eventually did learn to chill. And when I did, I enjoyed more moments and took in more memories. And as I was driving that day, it made me want to reach out to all those moms out there- new moms, moms going through the “terrible twos”, moms with littles that are facing a myriad of challenges, moms with teens… Girl, soak it all in. It’s a struggle now and that struggle is oh, so real. You’re feeling pulled in a thousand different directions, your expectations for yourself are way too high, you’re trying to to do it all and be it all to everyone around you. Stop. Reign that shit in. Learn to say “no, not right now, maybe someday” and keep life simple. Bring your expectations of yourself to a level that is humanly possible. You’ll find moments to get it done. Because I’m telling you, one minute you’re rocking them on the porch swing, taking in all the newness of that baby and the next minute, you’re driving down a road and there’s an oncoming firetruck and that baby you were rocking just a minute ago is driving it and has a moustache and muscles.

I’m planning my second baby’s high school graduation party. It’s mind-blowing to me and I find myself just focusing on what I need to do and plowing forward, without emotion, just to win this battle. Because it is– it’s a battle against time- you’re grabbing handfuls of sand and it’s just sifting through your fingers and you can try to tighten your grip it and stop it but it just keeps seeping through the cracks and there’s nothing you can do about it. The most ironic part of it all is the fact that while I’m fighting to slow it all down, that graduating senior is pushing it to go faster so he can get to school and get started on being a grown up.

Wisdom- it’s apparently only for old people.

Happy Mother’s Day, Moms out there! Stop being so hard on yourselves! Give hugs, make hot dogs and don’t worry about matching all the socks. Someday, when the kids are off on their own, we’ll have plenty of time to clean.