At some point in the recent past, two things in American motherhood culture have become widely accepted. More than accepted. Touted. Broadcasted from one social media corner to the next. The first is the ability to “do it all.” Raise happy, academically and athletically-gifted children, hold the line as the best partner, friend and professional in your field. The second is to accomplish all of these things with complete independence. It is not cool to need help or seek support. That is equivalent to weakness. Dependency on others in simply means that you are not strong enough, organized enough or skilled enough to keep every one of those balls (and many more) perfectly synchronized in the air and with a smile on your freshly dermabladed face.
The problem is that this is the exact opposite of how this whole motherhood thing is meant to go down. We should be surrounded by support in every area of life. Elders who have been doing the work we’re engaging in for decades and can teach us how to work efficiently and effectively. Extended family who share responsibilities that were never intended to be shouldered by one or two people alone. COMMUNITY. A whole slew of people to have your back, day and night, to share in life’s triumphs and sorrows. To walk with your family when life goes off the rails, as it tends to do.
When I became a mother 14 years ago, I felt the weight of these expectations heavily. We lived in Kansas City at the time, and I eventually shuffled myself to a new-ish group in my church called “Building Better Moms” or BBM for short. I ate some brunch, held conversations with other moms in the trenches of sleepless nights and spit up and maybe soaked in a few tips from the speakers into my tired brain.
Five years ago, my husband changed professions and our family moved away from the Kansas City community we had known for the decade we had been married. In my wildest dreams, I never would have guessed the struggle that followed. A new job for him, a new job for me, a new baby, a new church, new schools, daycares, and activities for our kids, and all in a new town meant that we were constantly trying to rebuild small little pockets of the “new” community 24-7. Our schedule was at 100% capacity and there felt like no room for error and certainly no room to add “make new BFFs” to the list. Especially when my heart really ached for the ones we had left behind.
It all felt so…lonely. Are we allowed to discuss this? The loneliness that comes with parenthood these days? Doing it all and doing it all 100% proudly on your own is so. very. lonely.
With time, prayer and lots of help from moms met at the school pick up line, a new, local Building Better Moms group began. Over time, these women became the people I can call on in the middle of the night, who have leapt for joy with me, taught me how to keep houseplants alive and held my tear-soaked hands through some unimaginably tough times. It’s all a little less lonely.
We have now moved to Wamego and are working on starting our third local Building Better Moms group. Twelve fellow mommas have been willing to serve in leadership positions of our newest local BBM group. Last Thursday, we kicked off our first meeting with 42 women over snacks, laughs and introductions. It will take time, and it will take some amount of vulnerability (it’s so hard to be vulnerable), but these ladies will rise up and provide a space for support, learning from one another, and for building the community that we are intended to live within. I found myself tearing up as I looked across all the different faces in that room last week. There we all were…just a bunch of busy, powerful, different moms living life together. In community.
Building Better Moms, Wamego includes mothers with children from newborn to adults living in Manhattan, St. George, Wamego, Alma and beyond. The group meets at Wamego First United Methodist Church on the 1st and 3rd Thursdays of every month. If you are interested in learning more, please reach out to [email protected]. We want to help you find your community!
This post was written by Gena Burkett Rossow.
