What I Discovered at a Garden Party

"The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice."

Peggy O'Mara


Someone I love told me today that I don't always have to be happy. I am twenty-two years old and that is the first time anyone has ever told me that outright. It's the first time I feel like that might be true.

It started at a baby shower that I had been feeling iffy about. I wanted to go, get out, and pay forward some of the immense kindness that has been shown to me, especially at the time of my wedding and the births of my children. It was also in the middle of our regular naptime, however. I decided to go. I had a fair time, but I just felt like an outsider mostly. Almost like what I'm going through has put an invisible wall between me and other people. I feel like I have to put up this front like I'm fine and I'm managing well on my own.

I know it's nothing that other people do to me. I do it to myself and I don't know why. But then I look at my mom. Someone brought her up at the baby shower. It went about like this:

Neighbor: "Where's your mom? She usually comes to stuff like this."
Me: "Oh, she's at home. I think she has a lot to do today"
Neighbor: "Is she having a bad day with her back?"
Me: "I'm not sure about today, but I know she's had a few rough ones lately."
Neighbor: "Is there anything I can do for her?"
(Apparently I accidently gave a "look" and possibly an eye roll)
Neighbor: "I know, I know... Stupid question. It's just that I know she'd be there if it were me."

She is almost disabled by her back injury and she keeps pushing on. I feel like I have to live up to that example- strong, fiercely independent, tree-chopping, lawn-mowing, truck-driving, hard working mother of mine. But that's not who I am. That's not who I'll ever be. If that's who I need to be to make her happy and thus feel good about myself, I better just get used to being a disappointment. I've completely lost myself looking for approval. Marne told me I'm living a lie. I've begun to understand what she means...

I'm not me.

Back to the baby shower. It was in a ward member's backyard. She has this wonderful, dreamy backyard. I can imagine it becoming a fairy garden at midnight. Charlie could have stayed all day. Eventually, I just wanted to get out of there. It's exhausting holding onto my "happy face." Charlie has started this thing in the last couple of months where he throws himself on the ground if he doesn't want to do what I'm asking of him, so I was trying to get him to the car with Noah in the carrier tied to my front and we were going down cement stairs when Charlie flopped. I managed to pick him up and comfort him, even with Noah and the diaper bag hanging off me.

That was just it. I tried to hold back the tears, but my baby sobbing in my arms and my feelings of loss, anger, fear, disappointment, insignificance, and rejection just overwhelmed me. Someone from the party saw and came to help me. She took Charlie and hugged me while I bawled. "Oh, baby girl," she said. "You have so much you're dealing with. You don't always have to be happy."

I start to cry again when I think about it because I want to believe her. I want to feel like it's okay to not have all my crap together. But I'm the mom. Someone has to hold it together. No one is coming to save me.

Later in the evening, I had a mental breakdown. It's making me crazy to try to be Wonder Woman. There are so many voices telling me to be strong, thin, religious, tireless, capable, bold, fearless, happy, independent, that I don't know what I would hear if it were just me in my head.

Final Thought

"In three words I can sum up everything that I've learned about life: it goes on."

Robert Frost