I remember the support parade beating down my door the moment I brought my first baby home. People arrived with gifts, delivered meals, and sent inquiring texts about my mental and physical health. It was like a big warm hug from my whole community, metaphorically (and sometimes literally) wrapping their arms around my baby and me as I transitioned into motherhood, everyone so genuinely concerned and wanting to help lighten my load.
It was amazing, and I appreciated it so much. But the irony is that I didn’t really need much help back then. Now’s when I need the extra hands. Somehow I felt more prepared for newborn life. Having older kids feels so much harder. So, where the heck is is my support train now?
Life is about as chaotic as a dumpster fire in the middle of a three ring circus. And to be honest, I didn’t expect this level of difficulty at this stage of my kid’s lives.
I remember looking at seasoned moms with a van full of older kids when my first was in diapers and envisioning myself cruising through life at that point. I’m not sure if it’s because I have four kids but this stage of life is really kicking my ass. And God, I sure could use a dinner drop-off.
But I get it. I’m not stepping into a brand new role. Instead of tiny toes to tickle, my house is filled with oversized feet, dirty fingernails, and mild scents of body odor. The sink is filled with too many dirty cereal bowls and sweaty sports equipment piled up in corners.
And maybe because I’ve been doing this for so long now, people think I’ve got it all under control. That’s what I thought when I saw moms in this stage before I was in it myself. But the reality is, I am kinda drowning. Because the truth is, the every-single-day revolving door of madness that comes with taking care of a bunch of strong-minded, full-scheduled, growing humans is for me a hell of a lot harder than when navigating the feed and sleep schedules of my new baby in the coziness of my little home.
To be clear, I am not saying that newborn life is easy. That shit is hard too, of course. But maybe next time, while you’re packing the gift basket for that brand-new mom down the street, throw a loaf of banana bread on the steps of the mom juggling a few older and wilder kids while you are at it. And a couple sticks of deodorant, too.
And if you send a thoughtful check-in text to the mom of a cute little one, shoot a fire emoji over to the mom of tweens and ask if she needs any help with the weekly car pool. Or just a compliment like I saw your kid at basketball tonight and they were polite to you. I feel like I have no idea what I am doing and a little lost. And I hope when I am out of this phase I too take the time to spread the love. Because, God, couldn’t we all use a little help?
Samm is an ex-lawyer and mom of four who swears a lot. Find her on Instagram @sammbdavidson.
