Perpetuating the Mommy Stereotype

Before I dive in, I just want to take a moment to lay down a big ol' disclaimer.

When I am talking about perpetuating a stereotype, I'm not talking about unhealthy, prejudiced, mean, hateful stereotypes. 

OK?  OK!

I was telling Aaron the other day that I don't like to perpetuate the mommy stereotype.  And, to be honest, I'm not really sure what that all entails, and I'm sure it's a little different for everyone.  

I think it started with the slippery slope that is the minivan.

Aaron and I swore that we would never get a minivan.

Never ever ever get a minivan.  Minivans are not awesome.  They aren't edgy and exciting.  They look like big eggs.  

Soooooooo, yeah we got a minivan.

And once we got over the uncoolness of the minivan, we found that we really liked it.  What it lacked in style and awesomeness, it more than made up for in its incredible functionality.

Stow and Go for the win!

From there, it's all down hill!

I found myself talking about my kids' poop.  A lot.  I never even knew that was a thing.

I was concerned about spit up.  Overly concerned about spit up.

When Leah turned 1, I panicked about her not transitioning to cow's milk very well, and said frantic things like, "She's needs the healthy fats for proper brain development!!!"  So, yeah, I gave her chocolate milk.

I cry on their first days of school...every year.

I consider grocery shopping by myself to be on par with a beach vacation.

I've been listening to the freaking sound of music LIVE soundtrack for weeks and weeks and weeks to make drives more peaceful.

I take care of them before (and better than) I take care of myself.

I worry.  Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot.  Sometimes over the most far-fetched, ridiculous stuff, and sometimes over things that might be slightly possible.

And, most recently, I got really excited to see a movie about moms with some mommy friends.

Perpetuating the mommy stereotype galore!

I can't be stopped!

But, in the case of mommy stereotypes, certain things are stereotypes because they're kinda true.

And I think the underlying truth is that becoming a mommy changes you.  

My 25 year old self didn't understand what it would be like meet these tiny people who were wholly dependent on me.  

I didn't know that I'd be able to recognize their cries on the day they were born.

I didn't know that merely the sound of my voice would be the best parts of their baby days.

I didn't understand that I'd feel so very responsible for every part of their lives.

I didn't know that my heart could be so full of love even in the midst of being maddeningly frustrated with them.

I also didn't know that there would be times that I couldn't remember when I last took a shower.

But, the best surprising truth was how I got a tiny glimpse into the perfect, sacrificial love that God has for us.  I'm a wildly imperfect mommy, but even in my failures and mistakes and sins, I understand a tiny bit better about how God loves us enough to eagerly give us His best in Jesus...because that's how I want to love my girls.

So, yeah, I'll be overly excited when I drive someplace by myself in the awesomely functional minivan.

And I'll be thrilled when I can sit at a coffee shop by myself with a book.

I'll get choked up when I realize that my daughters are getting older before my very eyes.

I'll still be concerned when they face new challenges.

But, I'll do those things with my own personal witty flair, and I'll OWN it!

Because even though my identity is always and only in Jesus, God has surely used these lovely little ladies to change me.  

And that's a really good thing.

But, I'm still never going to wear Mom Jeans.