Well, we're officially moved! We finally got our internet set up and working, bought all the parts we needed for our washing machine and dryer, and have unloaded all the boxes. We do have a few bigger pieces of furniture in storage that we're working on getting to our apartment and stuff to drop off at DI, but other than that and a few organizing projects, we're settled in.
The day we moved, I had an experience with Ashtyn that made me stop and think about motherhood and the sacrifices that mothers make. As mothers, we often need to do what needs to be done, regardless of the obstacles, difficulty level, or lack of desire to do the task.
We were able to move in on Wednesday, but we had to wait for Ben's brother and dad to get off work before really doing much moving. We prepared as much as possible the day before and the morning of, packing and moving what we could.
One of the first things I did Wednesday morning was take our food over to the apartment. Anything that would need to go in the fridge or freezer, I knew it would be helpful to have it all put away and out of the way before the chaos of a million boxes took over our apartment. I also knew, since we couldn't start moving until four, that making sure food didn't spoil would not be something we'd want to be doing late at night.
With Ben's help, I loaded up the car with our million bags of food, packed Ashtyn in her car seat, and headed over to our apartment. I unloaded Ashtyn and her toys first, setting her in the living room to play. Leaving the front door open, I grabbed the first load of food, dropped it just inside our entryway and went back for another.
The first load, Ashtyn was fine. She sat playing and seemed oblivious that I'd gone out to the car. She started unloading some of our frozen food, perfectly content to carry her new found "toys" around. When I went back for the second load, she noticed and, let me tell you, she was not happy about it.
I did a couple loads, as fast as I could, with her crying, and then I tried to hold her while I did a couple more loads. She was still crying as if I had left her inside and she was slowing me down considerably, so I finished the last few loads after setting her down, just letting her sit and scream.
When I finished, I sat down on the carpet (because we had literally no furniture yet) with her and just let her snuggle on my shoulder for about ten minutes. She didn't calm down at all, just screaming and screaming and I began wondering if her hands were cold from standing in the doorway and holding the freezer foods. I took her to the sink and put her hands under warm water and she did not like that at all. I don't know if it helped any, because she just kept crying.
I really needed to get the food in the fridge and freezer before it thawed out so, holding Ashtyn while she snuggled into my shoulder screaming, I began lugging the bags of food into the kitchen and then unloading them. Eventually, Ashtyn calmed down and just laid on my shoulder while I put all the food away, occasionally lifting her head to see what I was doing.
I tried setting her down a couple times, but every time I did, she immediately began having a meltdown, so I just picked her back up again. I finished putting everything away holding her. It probably took me twice as long to do everything and my arm was so tired by the time I finished. I knew I couldn't just leave the food out, though, and I wasn't about to let Ashtyn sit on the floor and scream, traumatized, while I finished.
I'm a mom, so I just did what needed to be done.
Although my experience was short lived and not a very hard hardship, it brought to my mind thoughts of pioneer women and other moms. I thought of how they trudged through snow carrying their little ones, sometimes leaving footprints of blood behind them. I thought of them having babies in their carts as they came across the plains and how many of them lost their babies but continued onward. I thought of all the things they needed to do that we have more convenient options for, like traveling, cooking, and maintaining our homes, all with little ones around.
I also thought of single moms, moms whose husbands are away all the time, moms who suffer from illness or depression, even just pregnant moms, trying to take care of their little families. They might not always feel well, want to be selfless, or feel that life is going the way they wanted it to.
But they just keep going. They keep doing what needs to be done, even when they don't feel like it. They keep being moms, because that's what moms do.
And I'm honored and scared to be counted among them. I hope I can live up to the name.
No comments:
Post a Comment