A gentle transition to motherhood

They Don’t Know Sh*t

Posted by on May 18, 2014 in Blog | 1 comment

A few years back, when her little P was born, our awesome Marketing Guru, Randee, coined the phrase “Parenting is all about learning to eat humble pie.” I remember the first time she said it thinking, “Wow…that is so true.”

I think back to the time before our children were born and see myself, late twenties, thinner than I thought I was, and FULL of opinions on parenting. My lack of experience mattered not, much like the patient who says to the doctor, “I was on Google for twenty minutes this morning and came up with a diagnosis of x.” Who cares that the doctor has spent years learning about anatomy, medical diagnosis and generally everything to do with health and science…..I spent twenty minutes on Google this morning!

And so, there I am, young and fresh faced. So rested, with so much time on my hands (though it didn’t feel like it at the time), and willingly offering up all of my unwelcome and unasked for opinions. Always secretly content in the knowledge that my future unborn children would never do _____ and never say _____ and never struggle with _____.

Ha. Hahahahahahaha. I laugh so hard at that old me it gives me a bellyache. And truthfully, I cringe at her too. How dare she? How dare she have so many opinions about something she has never lived?

We took our kids to brunch today. I’m sitting at the table watching my two year olds eat their breakfast and delight in maple syrup when to my right I catch the eye of a young couple seated next to us. And I see it….that face…the same face I used to make. The one that meant I was thinking, “I’d never let my children do that.”

Sadly, my first response was to check myself and my family to make sure that we weren’t acting inappropriately. That good old fear of judgement kicked in and my first thought was to look for flaws in my perfectly imperfect people. When I couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary (the kids faces were covered in food, giggling loudly, still eating with their hands despite my countless efforts at teaching them to use a fork), my second thought was “Screw you.” “Screw you young, rested, put together couple who only just woke up and have hours of free time ahead of you. You don’t know shit.”

And they don’t. They don’t know that whatever it is they may think they’re seeing….today was a GOOD day. A well behaved day. They don’t know that my kids are actually incredibly well behaved for two year olds and if that means we spend the last five minutes of our meal jumping on the seats of the booth, well, so be it. They don’t know what it is really like to try and let your children cry at 2am, or how it feels to have to decide that formula is the way forward because dammit my children have to EAT. They don’t know the shame that comes from one of them melting down in the grocery store, or the pride you feel when they say please and thank you without you having to remind them. They don’t know what it is like to rock a child just before bed, when their eyelids are sleepy and they smell like bubble bath and love. And they certainly don’t know the daily on-your-feet thinking that parenthood requires, always struggling to balance the needs of your child, with the lessons you hope to teach them. Or the feeling of being judged by Facebook, or other Mommies, or other bloggers, or other people over and over and over again that catches up with you over brunch one Sunday morning.

They don’t know shit.

And neither did I. I eat humble pie every time my kids don’t want to share (for I was sure that I could parent that problem out of them), wake up in the night, have a melt down, or show me, once again, that they are their own people, complete with their own strong opinions on just about everything. I basically eat humble pie every single day.

And now, two and a half years later, I eat it proudly, with extra whipped cream, a smile on my face and love in my heart. I’ll be the first to admit that parenthood looks NOTHING like I expected it to. The good stuff is so much more amazing than I ever thought it could be. And the hard stuff is so much harder. But, as with all things to do with my twins, they continue to teach me more than I could ever manage to teach them. Because now I try not to judge the world. I often don’t succeed (case and point, this entire blog and my response to that poor couple sitting next to us) but there are many times I do. The truth is, I still don’t know shit. I don’t know shit about Randee’s little girl, or Tracy’s grown up kids, or any of the little people or big people I meet in this world. All I know is what I’m living….and believe me, that is more than enough to occupy me for now!

Kira Dorrian and Tracy Adams are Seattle-based Clinical Hypnotherapists and HypnoBirthing® Practitioners, each a mom of twins. Together they have created HypnoMothering™, a class designed to help prepare women for a gentle transition into motherhood, and a safe space for new mothers to be seen, heard, and supported.

One Comment

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  1. Mar

    Oh my gosh – you know so much, have so much wisdom and have so much to teach the people in the world around you.

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