The Dance of Motherhood

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ussmomWe mommies experience indisputable changes after having our babies. Sleepless nights, extra laundry, added worry… all things every mommy will tell you just come with the territory. However, at church on Sunday, I observed one of the not-so-obvious side effects of mommyhood. As I stood talking to a friend before Sunday school I noticed we were both doing the same thing. Shouting after kids? No. Wiping crumbs off our Sunday best? Huh uh. Downing our third cup of coffee? Nope. We were swaying. There was an invisible motion in our ocean that can only be attributed to what I’ve dubbed “The Dance of Motherhood.”

What is this dance? When does it start? Much like an unseen cruise ship on which all of those who join the ranks of mommydom board, we were swaying in an invisible sea of “been there, done that.” As we talked about our Sunday school classes, the week’s summer parade, and life in general, we swayed. We danced. Left, right, left, right. Hips moving, arms folded as if cuddling and cherishing the babies of our past. This is “The Dance of Motherhood.”

Then, I started to think, What are some of the other side-effects of motherhood that are somewhat enigmatic? I’ve come up with a list of manifestations of motherhood that I’ve realized have become a part of my life.

Restroom Reconnaissance

In my family, when there’s a need to pee, I’m the go-to lady. You could say, I have the nearest potty internally programmed into my mommy GPS. Target? Front center. Michaels? Rear center. Walmart? Double potty… front center, rear center. I can calculate how many minutes I have until my little shopper goes from the potty dance to a four-alarm fire drill.

I believe this gift stems from the early years of potty training and has been perfected as my mommy bladder has shown its age. Let’s be real – sometimes telling our kids they have to use the bathroom “one more time” is a cover.

It’s okay, Mommy. Your bladder has earned the right to some special treatment!

When it comes to restroom recon on the road, I have that covered, too. Within a 200-mile radius of home, I have the best rest areas, gravel roads, and convenience store potty stops mapped out internally. Do we stop at the gas station that has a restroom key on a large pizza paddle? No! We soldier on to the fresh Iowa rest stop with the friendly grandma at the information desk and free Wi-Fi.

Superior Sniffer

Have you ever opened up the side door to your minivan only to be driven to your knees by the smell emanating from its depths?

At one point in my life I may have been quizzical about the source of the stench. At this point, my mommy sniffer has the odor pinned down to its molecular makeup within nanoseconds.

Is it rancid with a tinge of sweet honeysuckle? Most likely last week’s McDonald’s chocolate milk jug that was “mysteriously” left behind. Perhaps you’re faced with a sour scent mixed with a hint of baseball field? It’s shoes. Shoes. Every. Single. Time. Maybe it’s musky with woodsy undertones? A half eaten apple that was skillfully stashed in the front pocket of eldest son’s baseball bag.

Closet smells almost always indicate hidden accidents. Mommy, you know the kind. The kind of hidden accident that begs you to run the other direction, but for the sake of all humanity you delve deep into the depths of said closet to surface with the evidence. Evidence which is quickly bagged, tossed, or perhaps burned to destroy all risk of cross contamination. Humankind thanks you. Your sniffer saves the day!

Cry of the Wild

You hear it from the basement. The roar of the wild. But… wait…. Is it a cry stemming from injury? A yell of anger? A shout of excitement? Discerning the voracious roar of a child with something broken vs. the vengeful manufactured cry of a manipulative sibling is a skill any seasoned mommy has acquired.

Child A, based on his blood curdling scream, is seemingly at battle with the forces of a thousand ninja warriors in the basement. Is he in trouble? Most definitely not. That yell, in all actuality, is really only his frustrated response to losing yet another game of MLB 2014 on the Playstation.

Child B lets out a whimper in short intermittent bursts as he hobbles up the steps of the back deck. A novice caretaker may mistake this sound for a child with a scraped knee or perhaps a bee sting. Not so! Mommy has heard this cry a hundred times before and quickly deciphers its sing-songy nature for the tattling that is soon to follow. Definitely a backyard scuffle that needs some attention.

Mothers acquire a subtle skill set that can only be earned from the school of hard knocks. We may have the soothing touch, gentle words, and answers to the questions of a thousand “whys,” BUT there is sooo much more, dear sisters. If you have yet to master some of these subtleties, just keep swaying. You’ve boarded our ship that will keep on sailing until you reach your port of call.

What other super powers have you acquired in motherhood? Share your wonder with the world – or at least the rest of us who dive into dark closets after stinky underwear!

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Marti Skow
Marti Skow is a boy raising, homeschooling, picture taking, blog/song/poetry writing, husband loving, work from home graphic artist. She has learned to graciously thrive in a house full of boys, living a life precariously between wedgie wars and warrior training. Marti has written several worship songs with her husband Josh and describes writing and poetry as her form of “knitting.” Some of her favorite things are good coffee (spelled Smokey Row), historical fiction and breakfast foods…preferably enjoyed together. Marti’s desire is to see the world as God sees it and to love His people as He does. You can read more about Marti’s life with boys at www.betterbelieveit.wordpress.com.

3 COMMENTS

  1. Love this! My super power is finding things. It’s only really lost if Mom can’t find it! Husband and children can spend 20 minutes looking, I find it in two. Does this happen at your house! ?

  2. While I’m not a season mom I realized how good I got at picking up items with my toes when my little girl was a really tiny baby. If there were Mom Olympics I think I’d get at least silver for the USA team.

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