You Are Enough
I am the kind of person who wants the entire day to be good.
To be happy and content and productive and relaxed and comfortable and loving and loved all at once… all day.
Parenthood teaches you that’s bullshit.
You are uncomfortable and worried and exhausted and irritable.
But maybe your baby smiled at you (or maybe at the wall) this morning.
Or he farted in his sleep all day thereby alleviating awake-gas-pain crying.
Or he made really cute noises.
Or gained weight.
Or lifted his head up for an extra long time.
Maybe you took a shower.
Or Face-timed with your family.
Or wrote a blog post.
These are giant motherfucking wins.
If ONE of these happens in a day.
It’s a good day.
Even if the other 23.8 hours SUCK.
It’s a good day.
The littlest victories are the biggest right now.
I wrote the above post in my notes for possible blogs 2 months ago.
I now realize it’s only half of the truth.
I re-read it tonight because I needed to.
Because I was having a shitty mom day.
Because I actually had a great day; I got a massage, a friend babysat my son for 4 hours while I worked, and I took a long, glorious shower. It was amazing and by no means the norm.
But 6 hours later… I am DONE.
We didn’t sleep much last night or the night before. Naps are 20 min in the crib or 2 hours on top of me. He wants to be held all of the time. Which is adorable and exhausting. So we rock and sing and I wear him and play and I change him and he’s not having any of it. He’s cranky and impatient and spits up 3 times in my hair.
So after only 6 hours… I want to throw in the towel.
And then I feel like a shit because how dare I already feel burnt-out when I had such an easy morning.
I put him under the play-gym to get a break and miraculously he quiets down and plays.
He looks at the little stuffed lion next to his arm and reaches out and grabs it. Then he grabs the whale above his head. He laughs. And then he sees the monkey… upside down… stuck on the gym.
And he stares at it. And slowly… sticks a foot out and tries to flip it around.
And I watch him.
Watch him learning. Watch him trying. Watch him get frustrated, calm himself down, and try again.
And I realize… My self worth has always been directly linked to my level of productivity each day. Not only what I’d done but how much of it.
When I was traveling it was where I went each day and what I saw and who I met.
At home in LA it was how many friends I hung out with and auditions I had and work I booked.
Ironically, The past few years it was how much self-care I gave myself. I was trying so hard to be kind to myself that the day was only a success if I’d meditated and written in a journal and did yoga and and and and…
Everything was and.
Even self care! Self care is by definition un-stressful and I somehow made it stressful!
So I watch my kid.
Staring at this monkey. Trying to work it out.
Using his feet and hands deliberately. A very new phenomenon. Deliberately.
And he doesn’t get it.
He tries. He tries again. He sighs in frustration.
And then he sees me watching him across the room… And he smiles.
These lessons everyone talks about your kids teaching you.
I thought they all had to be big.
And life altering.
But they aren’t.
They are tiny. They are moments. If you blink, you miss them.
He tried today.
And that was enough.
I picked him up, and we snuggled and sang and he fell asleep in my arms.
I tried today.
And that’s enough.
You are enough.