When you become a mom, something happens that I’ve never really seen with any other role we take on. When I started college no one playfully referred to me as student, no one called me wife after my wedding, but for some reason as soon as Little Bug was born everyone forgot my name.
“Glad to hear mom and baby are doing well.” “Hope she’s letting her mama sleep!” “Mom, let that baby have some *insert horrible sugary snack* it won’t hurt her.”
Umm, you all know my name. It’s Amy. Hi, nice to meet you again apparently.
Not that we don’t perpetuate this ourselves. I mean, I have a whole blog based around my identity as a mother. Even the other week at the park I was talking to the mom of a kid at Little Bug’s daycare. I’ve seen her twice a week for a couple months and she was hosting a Halloween party she invited all the kids to. In the middle of our conversation I realized, I didn’t know her actual name. Just _____’s mom. (Don’t worry I asked her!)
Sometimes, I really feel like I’ve lost my identity to motherhood. So much changed for me. I became more introverted and let a lot of my hobbies fall to the side. I would rather mindlessly watch TV while no one touches me than get out my embroidery, and make sure all the pointy things that go along with it are picked up and out of reach before Little Bug wakes up. I know most of us go through it. I think that’s why some of my moms’ night outs rival my college nights out. I didn’t have much self-identity at 19 either.
There is one thing I have really held on to. I like to cook. I honestly enjoy cooking new meals and dishes. For a while I made sure J was home or a movie was playing and I would put the baby gate up and cook dinner. It probably seems silly because I know lots of people who don’t like cooking, but I get more relaxation from it than most other things I’ve tried.
Little Bug is getting older and J’s work shifts are weirs. Movies and baby gates don’t hold a willful three-year-old out of my kitchen very long. I’ve been forced to lose my quiet cooking time. At first, I resented it. I liked it and I really need something just for me when J works overnights and sleeps all day. I’ve been letting her help more and more and it turns out Little Bug really likes cooking too, and surprisingly doing dishes (I assume that love will end quickly when the water and bubbles aren’t amazing anymore). And I can’t lie, the more I see her chopping with her little knife, smelling spices, and stealing bites I’m starting to feel happy that I can share that passion with her.
Don’t get me wrong I still kick her out of the kitchen, and have my own things. I not only mother and cook, I also sketch badly, write this blog, go to college, and frequently cry about how hard college is. Sometimes I even play a game with my husband, and on the best nights I go out with my friends. I know when she’s older I’ll have so much more time for myself and time to enjoy things I like, and I can’t lie guys, I’m super excited for it.