Alright Mommies, I have a confession….now judge me all you want, but I tend to keep things a little too real, (like all the way 💯, I’m talkin above a buck) with my 7-year-old daughter. We can literally talk about anything under the sun and I’ll keep it brutally honest with her most of the time…well, for the most part…okay, okay typically when it’s convenient; nevertheless, you get my point.
Let’s use this recent convo we had as an example:
Aniyah: Mommi, if gravity is really a thing, how do ants crawl up walls and ceilings without falling off?
Me: I think they have some sticky stuff on their legs or something. I don’t really know. Maybe you should ask Google, Alexa, Siri or Bixby, I’m sure one of them should know. Actually, scratch that, I pay enough in tuition ask your teacher and tell me what she says.
Aniyah: Mommi, why can’t I see my eyes?
Me: Ummm…probably because you’re not looking in the mirror sweetheart; next time, let’s think before we ask silly questions.
Aniyah: Mommi, where do babies come from? Like for real?
Me: Well sometimes they’re cut out of tummies, but yeah… mostly vaginas. Now listen, don’t go running back to that school telling all your little friends about this. I think their parents still want them to believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy.
Aniyah: And don’t forget the Amazon Stork.
You see what I mean? I’m #thatmom. The one who never did any of that goo-goo gaga baby talk; the one who never joined any of those mommi and me facebook groups (aka Mommi cults), the one who forked out an arm and a leg on baby formula because nursing was a no-go (for laughs about my adventures in breastfeeding, check out the blog Any Mom Who Doesn’t Breastfeed is Trash). Now, big ups to those all-star mommies that puree organic fruits and vegetables 18 times a day, run around town pushing their top of the line Silver Cross Balmoral Pram and post every single milestone on social media for people who couldn’t care less to see. I’m just sayin, my motherhood journey looks a whole hell of a lot different than that.
It’s absolutely no secret that I never imagined myself as a mom; mainly because I never aspired to be one. So when I finally came to terms with the whole pregnancy thing, I struggled with the basics like referring to the baby as “her” or “the baby” as opposed to “it.” I’d ask myself things like “I wonder if it’s comfortable in there. I wonder who it’s gonna look like. I wonder if it’ll have my personality or at least my twisted sense of humor. I know one thing for sure, it better not leave me with a bunch of stretch marks.” I would drive myself crazy thinking about things like this until one day I looked up and she was here. Looking back on those times, I can now confidently say, I was scared to death! The mere thought of having a real life human depend on me was just terrifying, but it’s crazy how the last trimester of pregnancy and childbirth can morph a mommi into a completely different person. Don’t get me wrong, when she finally made her way into this world she was still an “it,” but now she was MY it!
A word of advice for all new and expecting mommies out there, if I may:
1. Refrain from referring to your baby as “it” (at least out loud), people tend to look at you strange.
2. While the bun is baking, don’t overthink the whole mommying thing, there’s no perfect science and nobody gets the shit right anyway.
3. Prepare to say sayonara to restorative sleep, showers over 7 minutes and this thing they call free-time.
Now whether you’ve always dreamt of being a mommi or just so happen to have found yourself knocked up, take heed to the above three tips and you should be good to go for at least the first three months post childbirth!
I’m not exactly sure when she showed up, but baaaaby let me tell you… #thatmommi did not come to play! It’s as if the labor and delivery of my daughter instinctively caused me to transfigure into this beast known as momma bear! And sis pulled up to the scene locked and loaded, ready to have heads roll at the slightest threat to her cub (who she formerly referred to as “it”)! Trust me when I tell you, I was a hot ass mess the first three (maybe even six depending on who you’re asking) months of motherhood! If my baby was sleeping peacefully and all angelic-like and I thought the neighbor’s doorbell rang too loud, it was a problem! If someone so much as sneezed in her vicinity I was prepared to fight. Visitors were an absolute no unless they passed a stringent sanitation check; and honestly, the first 45 days of my baby’s life consisted of us self-quarantining so this whole shelter-in-place thing is a cakewalk! The only time we left the house was for essential trips to the doctor’s office and yes, I was #thatmommi who had the sheriff’s department come out and inspect the car seat twice before she ever rode in it. Let’s just say to call me over-protective would’ve been a vast understatement!
Now if you thought I was doing the most with the things I mentioned above, I won’t even get started on her first birthday😂. Let’s just say, there was a guest list of over 100 close friends and family, a rented facility, a red carpet and a whole team that flew in to help bring my vision to life! It was epic and so was every birthday and first milestone (tooth, solid food, step, baptism, first day of school, loose tooth, graduation, etc.) thereafter! Overnight, I had become #thatmommi!
So now that you have a little more context to how my motherhood journey got kickstarted, lets fast forwarded to the Mommi I am today. I am unapologetically #thatmommi who never envisioned herself as a mom, but by the grace of God does a damn good job! I’m #thatmommi who has learned that it’s okay to pat yourself on the back and toot your own horn (toot toot*) for being a bomb ass mom, while still working on parenting flaws. I’m #thatmommi that doesn’t think twice about dropping any and everything for my child. I’m #thatmommi who will publicly ride for my child whether she’s right, wrong (yup I said it) or indifferent, while correcting her in private. I’m #thatmommi who keeps it real with my daughter because I understand the possible long-term detriment lying, hiding things and/or coddling can have on her psyche and coping capacity as an adult. I’m #thatmommi that has to share time with her child due to a failed marriage, but I’m also #thatmommi who sees the value in her daughter spending time with her father despite all of the personal feelings and opinions. I’m #thatmommi who shows up late to damn near everything, but whose daughter knows without question that mommi will always be there. I’m #thatessentialmommi that has to work while ensuring my child is still receiving a quality eduction during COVID-19. I’m #thatsinglemommi who’s learning how to navigate work/life/dating with parenthood. I’m #thatcoolmommi whose trying to balance friendship and motherhood. I’m #thatbossmommi who is often the only black woman in the corporate meetings Monday through Friday, who can also slay and play on the weekends. I’m #thatwinedrinkingmommi whose daughter can tell you the best wineries in Napa Valley to tour. I’m also that #winedrinkingmommi who would never judge a friend (who shall remain nameless) after she calls panicking because her 2 year old accidentally drank a sip of her wine, I mean isn’t it just fermented grape juice anyway? I’m #thatmommiofalltrades who come hell or high water will figure it out via YouTube or Pinterest. I’m #thatmagicalmommi who intentionally personifies black girl magic, not just for the sake of her own daughter, but for all of our little girls. I’m #thatblessedmommi #thatkeepitlitmommi #thatsororitymommi #thatdopeAFmommi #thatstressedoutmommi; the list can go on infinitely, but the point is, I’m not just one type of mommi. Versatility, adaptability, flexibility, resilience and a whole lot of not giving a shit about what others have to think about me as a Mommi is what makes me unF*withable as #thatmommi!
Thank you so much for reading! I know we all have our unique motherhood stories that have shaped us into the mommies we are today. I’d love to hear all about your unique story and what makes you #thatmommi
Mommi Pamela P.