The mothers we are becoming
Q: In which season of motherhood do you find yourself?
Mitali’s Dialogue
This Mothers Day is bringing up a gamut of emotions for me. It’s a big year for me as a mom. Next month my older son K will be graduating from high school and also turning eighteen. I am excited to celebrate these milestones as it truly feels like an accomplishment given our journey as parents over the past eighteen years.
For many parents high school graduation is a momentous occasion - a milestone to be celebrated as our kids step into adulthood and prepare to leave the nest. But I also have some apprehension about the path ahead. We still have lots of responsibilities ahead of us as parents of a special needs adult. K is not yet ready to leave the nest but community college is hopefully in his future - something we couldn’t imagine was possible four years ago. Legally he may be turning into an adult in June but he is still learning how to take responsibility for himself and his actions and decisions. The future is still unknown but I guess that’s the case for all of us parents.
Our journey into the unknown started when K turned two and we realized that he was not babbling or making any sounds. From that initial diagnosis of verbal apraxia, we have since uncovered other diagnoses along the way - each with its own set of difficulties and missed expectations. I waited till he was four before I heard the words - “I love you”. I drove him to countless sessions of therapies and tutoring to help him learn how to read and do math. Violent tantrums were a norm in our house as he struggled to express his needs and emotions during those early years.
But it hasn’t been all doom and gloom. While his journey stretched my patience as a mother, it also taught me to live in the moment and celebrate the small wins. His disabilities meant that he truly lived each day as a new day - carrying no baggage from the past and no worries about the future - seemingly embodying the concept of the “beginner’s mind” from Zen Buddhism. As his mom, I learnt to give up control over things that were not in my control and to only plan for one year at a time with him. His development journey is his own. Giving him the grace of space and time has allowed him to discover who he is. During his elementary school years, all his artwork would come back home painted black or torn into shreds. Then in sixth grade at an art class at our local community center, he discovered a passion for painting and colors and now his artwork hangs all over my house.
He taught me that you only need one person holding hope and fighting for his rights to help him progress through life. I learnt to hold and express my unconditional love in each IEP school meeting (IEP stands for Individualized Education Plan - a document that ensures public schools provide appropriate education to fit a kid’s specific learning needs). I became his fearless champion building support around him with a team of teachers and specialists that continue to see him for the strengths he brings to the table. I discovered courage within me to not get defeated by the stark assessments delivered every three years by his school counselors.
Last year I wrote about how my life was transformed the day I became a mom and how I have learnt over the years to finally carve out space for myself despite getting subsumed by the responsibilities of being a parent. I have also learnt to flex my parenting skills in order to raise my second son N, who is neurotypical and four years younger than my older one. In the early years I worried if I had the capacity to give N the attention and energy needed after all the work that my older one demanded from me. Over the years I learnt that quality matters more than quantity and giving him my undivided time during his swim meets or taekwondo competitions forged deeper connections along the way.
“Mother is a verb. It’s something you do, not just something you are.”
- Dorothy Canfield Fisher
In the early days when there was much chaos in our house, N lived up to his name which means “little saint” and would counsel me to be kind and forgive my older one for his emotional outbursts. These days as a teen, if he had his way, he would have very little to do with me so I have learnt to use humor and candor to engage him in open dialogue on hard topics. Instead of demanding that he listen to me, I learnt to let go and have him fail and learn from his own mistakes. Knowing that I have his back and won’t judge him means he often turns to me when he finds himself in sticky situations.
Over the years I have discovered that values get passed down to our kids by our daily actions regardless of the challenges that we may face each day. Kindness, compassion, independence, honesty - these are values that K upholds every day in his interactions with the people that matter to him. N surprises me many days with his approach to life - humor, flexibility, grit and a growth mindset are traits that he has picked up from both of his parents. My biggest joy each day continues to come from seeing my kids pursue their passions and develop their unique personalities. They in turn continue to teach me valuable life lessons on how to lead a fulfilled and happy life.
“The child ever dwells in the mystery of ageless time, unobscured by the dust of history.”
- Rabindranath Tagore, Fireflies
Kinnari’s Dialogue
“Which phase of your kids’ life did they need you the most?” This is a question I often ask friends and cousins who have or are getting ready to send their kids to college. I’m curious about when my kids will need me the most - is it now while they are little or will it be when they get older? I’ve received a version of the same answer every single time. “They need you in different ways at different times - it shifts from physical to emotional. When they were little, it was being with them, watching them all the time and it was physically exhausting. But it starts to shift once they hit middle school. In high school they’ll need you and seek you out only once in a while and if you aren’t accessible at that moment then they will move on to the next thing.”
I’m in the stage of life where my kids are little (7 and 2) and need my attention, love, and energy almost all the time. I find myself fully leaning into “mom mode”. It is the role that I am prioritizing over everything else - wife, employee, daughter, sister, friend, self. Sometimes it’s a conscious choice and some times not even a choice. It is where I find myself needed the most. It is also the one that fills my bucket the most. Hearing the girls giggle, watching the love grow between the two of them, being on the receiving end of hugs and cuddles and sweet things they say, fills me with immense joy. I am lucky to be in the presence of so much love and am constantly pausing to soak it all in.
"I love our daughters more than anything in the world — more than life itself. So for me, being Mom-in-Chief is, and always will be, job number one"
— Michelle Obama
Becoming a mother has changed me in immeasurable ways. It has changed my mind and how I think. It has changed how I feel. It has changed how I make decisions, how I practice listening, how I show up.
“Mom, she says mean things to me all the time and sometimes I feel like crying” - little A said to me as we were walking home from a school event a couple of weeks ago. My heart sank. I had overheard a friend say something hurtful to her and asked her about it. The Mama bear in me wanted to immediately step in and fix it. It had been going on for a few months but this was the first time I had witnessed it. I started thinking about what I could do - should I talk to the friend’s mom? Should I talk to the teacher? But I knew that this was just the start of the drama of female friendships. I had to help her learn how to navigate it instead of stepping in to fix it.
“When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.”
– Sophia Loren
This incident was also bringing up my own insecurities from childhood but I had to learn to separate that out. I’d had my own share of friendship wounds when I was a kid. But I hadn’t come home and talked about this or expressed my hurt feelings to anyone. I had buried them deep inside and thought I’d moved on. But every once in a while they resurfaced. This was one of those moments. My inner child was coming up for air upon seeing my daughter hurt. I had to put that aside. I wanted to practice listening and creating a safe space for my daughter to express her emotions. Offer suggestions instead of telling her what she should do. Impart the wisdom I had gained over the years and talk to her about creating space in friendships, about choosing to be around those that made her feel good, where she could be herself.
“Honey - it’s okay to feel sad when someone says unkind things. How about we practice different things you could say or do when we get home?” We walked the rest of the way home holding hands in silence. With her I am in the midst of the shift from the physical to emotional. With my little one it’s purely physical.. as I write this she’s napping right beside me with one arm on me to make sure I don’t go anywhere. So for now, I’m going to stay right here. It’s my favorite place after all.