mother and two children (Dear Fellow Mother, Please Tell Me Your Secret)I see you at my daughter’s ballet class. You are just as put together as always, not a hair out of place. I know you have a new baby and a toddler, but you somehow look flawless and rested. Your children are happy and well behaved. I want to dislike you, but you are genuine. You are an effortless mother.

How do you do it?

I see you on the train. You are commuting to work for a 10-hour day. I hear you on the phone saying that goodbye at daycare was tough this morning. You cry because you miss your baby already. You apply some makeup to the bags under your eyes, swollen from lack of sleep. You take a deep breath and exit the train to work. I want to wrap you in a big hug. You are a strong mother.

How do you do it?

I see you in the gym locker room. You are struggling. Dragging your exhausted pregnant body and your 2-year-old daughter to swim class. I hear the frustration in your voice as you confide to a friend that it’s been an overwhelming and stressful week. You make me feel less alone. You are an honest mother.

How do you do it?

I see you at the grocery store. Flushed and sweaty, you abandon a full cart with a screaming toddler over your shoulder. You follow through with your threat to leave, even though it means going back again and doing the whole thing over. People are staring, but you hold your head high as you exit the store. I want to applaud you. You are a brave mother.

How do you do it?

I see you with your children at the park. I watch the tantrums and tears when it’s time to leave. You kneel down and calmly soothe each one, and your sincere voice tells me this is not an act. This is how you mother both in public and behind closed doors. I want to learn from you. You are a patient mother.

How do you do it?

My fellow mothers, I want to be effortless like you, but so many days the exhaustion of motherhood is written all over my face. I want to be honest like you and share the truth about my daily struggles, but too often my pride gets in the way. I want to be strong like you, even when I’m weakened by the weight of my responsibilities as a mother. I want to be courageous, even when my fear of failure feels so much stronger. I want to be bold like you, and not waste my days worrying what others think. I desperately want to find my patience, but my tolerance seems to wear thinner with each passing day.

Maybe the day will come when I’ll have the courage to finally tap you on the shoulder and ask you your secret: How do you do it? If you teach me enough, fellow mother, maybe one day I will smile with pride when someone is asking this same question of me.

Megan Samborski
Megan is a mom of two daughters (2012, 2014) and lives with her family in Stoneham, MA. Her interest in writing began as a child and developed throughout her study of Journalism at St. Bonaventure University, where she graduated in 2003. Megan's love for New England began in 2006 when she moved from her hometown of Syracuse, NY to pursue her masters degree in Marketing Communications at Emerson College. Boston holds a special place in her heart as the city where she met and married her husband, started a family and has planted roots. In her professional career, Megan focuses on positive youth development, community outreach and mental health awareness. Loves: Family, friends, dogs, being a mom of girls, reading, Netflix, holidays, the ocean, fall in New England. Could do Without: Winter, snow (besides at Christmas), being late, traffic.

3 COMMENTS

  1. Wonderful article! I often wonder if other moms feel this way; and if I’ll survive motherhood. Thank you for letting me know that I’m doing this motherhood thing right. Happy Mother’s Day!

Comments are closed.