January 1, 2016 – a new year. a fresh start. a clean slate.
It’s time for all of us to think about what we want to do, what we could do, what we WILL do, given all the “ideal” circumstances in this amazing and fresh “New year.” Do we have enough time? Enough money? Enough stamina? Are we even sleeping enough to function in a normal capacity? What is normal anyway?
A concept that everyone experiences in a normal and identical way is: time. Time is normal. days. weeks. months. years. It all passes the same. We can’t get ahead of it, we can’t fall behind it. It just IS. The passage of time is real, concrete and normal. The passage of “mom time” seems dreamlike, intangible and surreal. So many days we are unsure of whether we just woke up, or are just going to sleep. Behind our puffy and tired eyes, even the concept of time is foggy and far from the kind of time that people without children experience. Far from their “normal.” The years “go by in a blink,” but to exhausted moms, the days can be long and the concept of “going by in a blink,” gets lost. We only know what we experience now. As we hold our precious children in the middle of the night, we realize their beauty, their innocence, their complete dependence on us to lead them in this crazy thing called life. We kiss their sweet faces, tell them we love them, sing them lullabies, and wish for nothing else than to just be present in those snapshots of time, and make time stand still. Those moments get us through the long days that seemingly do not go by in a blink. The days are long, but the years are short. We are told this, and we realize this.
Behind closed doors, behind the shield of our own computer screens and phones, we feel awesomely invincible yet terribly insecure. We are moms. We have a new identity, which for at least 2 decades (give or take a few years), we never had before. We not only gained this identity, but we are expected to know what to do, how to do it, when to do it, and we aren’t shown much empathy in our sleepless existence that is motherhood. There is no normal in motherhood. Nobody innately knows exactly how to be a mother, yet we are entrusted with these tiny beings that depend on us 24/7 and are expected to be rockstars at it.
My name is Brittin. I am a college graduate (two times), a wife, a mother, a daughter, a friend, a sister, and an aunt. In my lifetime, I don’t ever recall being “normal.” I have an intense urge for success, to make change in the world, to start something new, to create and to perfect whatever it is that I have started. I can truly say that “normal” is no part of my existence on this earth as a person, and definitely not as a mom. I am a leader, a creator, a performer, a perfectionist to my core, and an extroverted introvert.
After posting on my own personal Facebook page for years and years, soliciting advice, giving advice (sometimes unwanted), posting articles, deconstructing articles, documenting this life I live that is sometimes insanely, terribly, awfully amazing; I decided to start a blog. I have a lot to say, but I am never quite sure if what I say is “normal” or if it is so “against the grain” that nobody will listen. After being told by at least 20 people that I should “start a blog,” I decided to take the plunge into blog-land. It will be the land of “mom crunch” (sometimes chewy, but mostly crunch). By “crunch,” I mean many things like raw emotion, passion, angst, realness, bluntness, all wrapped up in the mushy and chewiness that we all embody as moms. We are multifaceted, we are crunchy, we are chewy, but we are far from “normal.”
Here begins my blog; the most “normal” blog post that you will get from me. Follow along if you dare. I promise you raw and crunchy truths always, and processed and silky sugar coating never. Because sugar coating is apparently normal, and that, I just don’t do.