Longingful: A Poem

Ah, the sweet bliss of summer.
Time for sun-rise jog on the beach
savor cool drink on the porch swing with mom
fight haze with body-shock splash from buckets with brothers
soak in the heat, develop sun-streaks and dark tones with sisters
splash in still pools, laugh under cascades, drip-dry on towels with friends
lap drippy cones, suck melty ice, swap sun-filled looks with boyfriend
and then:
  he's gone and
         hot tears burn my cheeks
      as the rest of me froze.

Oh, the bright colors of fall.
Time for "grandma's specials" sweaters
crunch through woods, admire, exclaim with dad
go dizzy down hill, burst into leaves with brothers
taste-test coffees, tryout scarves with sisters
giggle through malls, pull out sharpened pencils with friends
and then:
  they test the world and
          hot tears burn my cheeks
     as the rest of me froze.

And, the blind dazzle of winter.
Time for bubble-filled soaks
spice aroma, flour fill, taste bud thrill cookies with mom
triumphant splat, dive back white, scoop, pat with brothers
bundle up starry-eye, star-fill, clear night glides with sisters
and then:
  they become families and
         hot tears burn my cheeks
     as the rest of me froze.

So, the hope of spring.
Time for the melting that forgets to come
insect inspection, nature perplexion with dad
puddle splash, umbrella lash, mud bash with brothers
and then:
  they continue to grow and
          hot tears burn my cheeks
      as the rest of me froze.

The loss of seasons.
The end of a time...
and then:
  a search for new as
         hot tears burn my cheeks
     and the rest of me is frozen,

December, 2007

On Being "Just" A Mom

© Jenae Karvonen 2015

When participating in small talk or meeting someone new, a question that is often asked is "what do you do for work?" and I respond that I 'just stay at home' or that I'm 'just a mom'. A number of times I've been told to NEVER describe myself as 'just'-like I am degrading myself or my position. Like including that one little 'just' should make me ashamed of who I am or what I do. And when I am rebuked like that, for a moment-just a moment- I DO feel ashamed. But you see, usually I am PROUD of that 'just'. To me, the chance to be 'just' a mom- not a nanny/mom, not a teacher/mom, not a nurse/mom, not an accountant/mom, not a translator/mom, not an any-kind-of-working/mom is a privilege. It means my husband finally makes enough money to allow me the luxury of staying home with my kids all day, every day. It has been a dream of mine for YEARS and I love saying that I am just a mom. And when someone tells me that they work full time or part time as a mom, I either see the joy in their eyes and know it's perfect for them (so I can feel happy for them), or I hope that, someday, they have the chance to be as lucky as I am. Just as someone who has worked hard at both at school and at work to make something of themselves, I have worked hard at home. I know you work hard, and you know I work hard. I know you love your kids, and you know I love mine. You have pride in your position at work and I have a sense of pride in my position as "just" a stay at home mom. In that description, I feel that it lets everyone know that in my house my kids clothes are washed by me, my kids house is cleaned by me, my kids boogers and tears are wiped by me, my kids worst fights are resolved by me, my kids happy moments are cheered on by me, my kids playmate is sometimes me, my kids life revolves around me. I feel like I get to be a little of everything- accountant, nurse, nanny, teacher, translator. For the good and the bad, I GET to be there in my child's life, and I love it. So please, when I tell you I am 'just' a mom, don't think I look down upon myself, or that I am less of a person because I don't work like you, this is my CHOICE and I am PROUD of it.

Do you feel proud of where you are in life? Are you a working mom or 'just' a mom? Have you ever been made to feel guilty about staying home?