I used to be sure I was just really bad at this whole suburban mom thing.  I know we all have moments we are pretty sure we suck at momming in general. Or times we forget a lunch, make a kid cry, forget to brush a head and they look like hooligans off to school, but I thought I was definitely all wrong for the role of suburban mom.  Besides all of those things.

My first child is a beautiful, tall, witty, empathetic, dark haired & olive skinned thing and she taught me quickly I had no clue what I had gotten myself in to.  I remember holding her and she just bawled and I bawled and we were two babies (okay; I was 27) bawling together probably both wondering if this will ever end. Now I know she was probably having awful tummy problems from all the dairy I was consuming while I nursed her, but this wasn’t brought to my attention with her 12 years ago like it was with my other two 8 & 4 years ago.  But, that’s besides the point entirely.

Also, the point isn’t even that moment.  Because in that moment and many after sure I wondered if I was cut out to be a mom.  I have wondered what I’ve gotten myself in to and how to do this new version of Autum so many times.  But, I began to figure it out. I learned, grew, adapted. I soon decided I didn’t need to completely give up me.  

I was sort of swimming through mud even as I had my second child.  A happy, loving, insanely smart {like crazy smart}, bright haired, and bright blue eyed boy.  My husband worked long hours as a varsity baseball coach at the local high school on top of teaching math at the middle school.   I taught at that middle school and I also coached sports there to help make ends meet. We worked a lot, parented a lot, and I was Autum very little.  

Let me back track to say I grew up in the country.  On a farm. We had all the animals and a garden bigger than most people’s yards in the suburbia I live in now.  My dad was a retired sailor. I grew up with three brothers. My mom sure tried, but I was not a frilly lace kinda girl. I was a dirt, mud, forts, and sports kind of girl.  Growing up with brothers we just spoke our mind to each other out of love. I love honesty and knowing where people stand.

I will also backtrack and say I was divorced when that sweet dark hair baby girl of mine was not quite two years old.  An after deciding I would never marry again or have more kids, I accidentally fell head over heals for my now husband after resisting the thought like crazy.  So, 4 months after he was my boyfriend we lived together, 8 months after that we bought a house. We were engaged soon after, almost as soon after married, found out just after we were married we were pregnant with that sweet boy of mine, and then I found myself a teacher, mom, and coach’s wife plopped in the middle of suburbia.

What the heck and how is this my life?  That could be my spoken thoughts quite often as I looked around.  Super honesty would tell y’all I did always think I probably wanted to be a mom.  And, growing up on that farm I never identified myself as a farm girl. In fact, I wanted to be like the girls in my YM and Teen magazine and shot for that every day.  I used to fantasize about moving to a big city, New York to be exact because it’s all I knew of big cities. Not because I had been there but because I’ve seen them. I planned to work my ass off, maybe as a lawyer, make a ton of money, and the rest would all fall into place.

Instead I went to a small college in state but 4 hours from home that offered me a scholarship.  I ran track there. I changed my major a time or two. I switched colleges.

Looking back I know this was happening because I was living someone else’s dreams. I wasn’t living mine or doing the things my heart had told me to do. I was doing the things I felt were safe. That I was supposed to do. Not surprising at all; I was a little lost. I somehow made my way through it all to suburbia.

I sat there in suburbia thinking, “How is this me?”. Also thinking, “This isn’t me.”  Maybe it wasn’t the me my heart knew I was or my soul was begging me to be, but it was the life I was allowing myself to live.  I was here. 

Then my daughter started kindergarten.

I have never felt more inadequate as a parent than when I was watching all these moms know exactly what to do at elementary school.  Seeing them all know where to park, how to walk the right paths, what the school rules and norms are, and then volunteer!!!!! I wanted to volunteer.  I did. But, remember that schedule I told you I had? Working as a teacher and coaching, husband working as a teacher and coaching, two kids in daycare… how???  And, you know how many of those mommies stayed at home with their kids and spend so much time at that school? A lot. Okay…. Actually probably not,  But, that’s how my head thought back then.

I felt like the worst mom ever because I had to work a ton to pay those student loans I took on to get my master’s degree to be a damn teacher (it was required in Oregon at that point).  I didn’t consider all the other moms who couldn’t volunteer and the way the moms who were are blessing my children. My mind just didn’t work like that then. I was stuck in the ‘I’m Not Good Enough’ game.

Now, let me stop right here and say there is nothing wrong at all with those moms who volunteered.  I was just in such a bad mindset. I was comparing myself to them. I felt like a failure. The problem is the comparison game.  That’s a huge problem. There’s nothing wrong with moms who work, moms who don’t, moms who volunteer, moms who don’t.  If you kiddos are safe, loved, and provided for— you deserve a crown and a medal, momma. And a lifetime supply of mimosas.  For sure.

This comparison game is what got me, though.  I saw these gorgeous & fit mamas and I felt like I didn’t fit.  I saw them all going to churches and youth groups and I didn’t even know times of any of these things.  I saw them doing PTA and I didn’t even know how to join. I knew I still had a good 20lbs of baby weight I’d like to lose (while I taught PE to these momma’s kids at the middle school),  but I couldn’t get to the gym they went to together. I liked to sit on my porch after the kids went to bed and have a glass of wine (or bottle, but whatever), and I liked to have BBQs with my friends and drink some beer on the weekends.  I felt like a square peg in the round holes and I began hating it.

So, I became good at sitting on the sidelines or acting.  I would fit the mold the best I could and hope I didn’t get seen at the store picking up my bottle of wine.  I would watch what I said carefully and I would volunteer when I could. All the while having dreams of living a different life and feeling more like me and less fake.  Less hidden. Less secretive. Like, what if people found out I am not this cookie cutter girl? I wanted to know everyone and be me. But, I wanted to hide and know no one as that version of me I was being.

I went on to have a third child after a difficult miscarriage that I will also share about in another post. That girl was 100% meant to come just when she did. That spunky curly-haired freckled-faced wildflower reminds me every day how much we are made to be as big as we want. How important expressing yourself is and how important being the fullest YOU can bring so much more to everyone else!

Well, let’s fast forward a ton here now.  I can share lots more in the future about how I literally work from home and throw my life onto the internet (I mean, you’re seeing some of that right here), but it didn’t start easily.  I started out scared to death. I started out needing something for Autum in the depths of all of Autum being for everyone else. But, it meant telling people about me. I stepped out of my comfort zone slowly and carefully.  And somehow people loved it. I realized people need raw and honest.

A turning point for me came the day I made a post on the ol’ Facebook.  A post with a picture of me and I throw out every single secret I can think of.  Mostly because every day as I shared more of me, I didn’t like hiding any part of me.  All or nothing is sort of a saying that can describe me anyway. So, I went for it. On a public post. “My car is a mess.  I feed my kids McDonalds. I drink wine probably too many nights a week. I cuss sometimes. I have yelled at my kids and been ashamed….”  The list went on. After I posted it, I closed my laptop and cried. I was wildly embarrassed and felt wildly free. I came back hours later to see more likes and comments than anything I had ever posted before.  It is still one of my most popular posts.

The point is, I had way more in common with the people around me than those differences I was comparing.  We shared the things we were hiding. We all drank our wine outside at night and cussed sometimes. But no one was acting like they did.

I decided that’s all wrong. Besides all the likes and comments on my post, I had a flood of messages from people in my inbox saying they relate but they are still too scared to say it publicly.  That was a moment I remember vividly. A moment I decided my job was to be the voice of moms struggling with things they feel ashamed of. My job is to be the voice of women just like me. I did it. It was scary. And so freeing. And so received.  “A breath of fresh air,” one message to me read.

So, I don’t mom the way some moms do.  I definitely work on manners and social graces, but they see me lose my temper and yell.  I try to teach them to clean their rooms and pick up after themselves, but if you stop by my house unannounced (and even announced some times), you may see a tornado.  I don’t PTA; I am incredibly grateful to those who do, but I admit I think I just don’t want it in my schedule. And, yeah. There is wine and sometimes Cheez Its for dinner.

I am not a bad suburban mom.  I am a damn good mom. My kids are blessed by the life I work hard to give them. Incredible things happen when you let go of the comparison game and just be you.  I’m also obsessed with meeting and hanging with other slightly imperfect and awesome moms. You are my tribe, babes!

xoxo-Autum