Band of Mothers is a bimonthly feature on moms who inspire us. Our goal is to cultivate a community of women, mamas, and children. Every other week, we’ll ask a mom 3 questions. Her perspective and stories are what makes up Band of Mothers. This week we’re talking with Anna DiLorenzo.
What was your ‘holy shit, I’m a mom’ moment?
I had my “holy shit, I’m a mom” moment a lot later than most. After a 57 hour labor, with me begging for an epidural and throwing my hypnobirthing plan out the window, it was going to take a lot to scare me. Not even an explosive diaper at 4 am, functioning on 2 hours of sleep with leaky boobs was going to surprise me. What gave me my “holy shit, I’m a mom” moment was actually packing my, now 4 year old, toddler’s lunch for school on a Friday morning when I hadn’t had time to go grocery shopping after working late 5 days in a row. Anxiety racked my brain knowing that the fridge did not hold the picturesque healthy, pre-made Tupperware containers of food that should be going into my child’s lunch box. No, instead, I threw 2 pieces of pepperoni, a bag of Skittles and a browning banana (for good measure- hey! it’s nutritious) in, while crossing my fingers her teachers would not judge her single, workaholic mother for not packing “the right stuff”. As I was fleeing the parking lot of her school after drop off, it dawned on me. “HOLY SHIT, I’M A MOM!” I am responsible for this little person who relies on me for everything, including a nutritious lunch (although, I’m sure she was far happier with the bag of Skittles). It was an epiphany and a shock all at once.
What’s the ‘keep it real’ advice you received or wish you had received?
The BEST advice I can give is that we’re all doing the best we can so don’t let someone tell you otherwise. Remember to be kind to yourself. Don’t beat yourself up. No amount of parenting preparation and reading will set you up for the craziness that parenting is. Being wrist deep in your kids puke with their first big sickness, or removing spit up from your hair will be inevitable. It’s okay to post the picture of your kids clothes piled on your bed, patiently waiting to be folded, instead of an envious Pinterest color coded closet. I know that my kid will still love me even though her lunch is a 4/10 at best on a morning where I’m barely keeping my own shit together, never mind finding the time to grocery shop after work that week. Instead, I rushed home early that night because my daughter wanted me to teach her how to braid her hair before bedtime. That time spent together, laughing with her over her efforts, hearing her complain that it was too hard, and the “I don’t get it!” was worth it. Scrutiny and judgement will come, but from what I’ve learned as a mom, is that only you know what’s best for your child and YOURSELF.
Describe your kid(s) in 3 words:
Tiny miniature adult.