Making of a Mom: What Do You Do?

A friend once asked me a question I’ll never forget.

She was further along in parenthood than I was and I admired her confidence, beauty, and spirit. We stood in my living room. She was looking around my shotgun house in an old part of Louisville. I was newly married, recently pregnant, and had just decorated our home for the first time. I watched her eyes trace over the prints on the mantel and the wall, and her question went something like this: “So, it’s obvious that you’re artistic—the way you decorate and dress. But what do you do?”

What do I do?

She wasn’t asking what job I had. She knew I planned to stay at home while my children were young. She was asking about art.

I vividly remember how my mind went blank as she waited for my answer. Time slowed as I flipped through the hundred and one things I wished I could do, but never felt able to put into practice.

I didn’t know how to answer her question, so I reached for the latest hobby that I had picked up but would soon put down, like I always did. “I paint,” I said.

I had taken exactly one oil painting class in college and fallen in love with the medium. And indeed I did paint even after the class, many times. But I was no expert and it wasn’t something I’d ever pursue fully. I didn’t understand myself well enough to express this. I left the conversation feeling that she was onto something and that I had not answered correctly.

A few months later, I had my first baby and found it difficult to balance the responsibilities of motherhood with anything else. (Goodbye, oil painting.) Difficult might be an understatement. Impossible was more like it. It’s easy for a new mom to become lost in the throes of motherhood. It’s easy to feel like you’ve lost yourself. My personality naturally has an “all in, all out” sort of tendency. I either throw myself into projects entirely or don’t do them at all. I had also absorbed some problematic teachings on motherhood, namely that it is the highest vocation a woman could have.

Moreover, it can just be hard to do “extra” things alongside motherhood. It’s natural to want to prioritize the care and needs of our children, which is good and right. The problem is when “mom-guilt” hinders our own growth and flourishing, when motherhood becomes all-consuming. All-consuming anything is not healthy.

In the early years of motherhood, I found it difficult to do anything other than focus on the kids and home. Motherhood is a never-ending job; there is always more work that can be done. Spending time on my own interests or needs felt selfish or like wasted time. My days were consumed with grocery shopping, cooking, playing with, and caring for the children. As an introvert living in an extroverted family, I had limited social energy. It was all I could do to keep from drowning in household chores, as we also often hosted friends and acquaintances.

Eventually, I let my hobbies fall by the wayside. Limited social energy meant that I was zapped by nightfall, so I opted for Netflix over books. Multiple toddlers meant that I was constantly running around, so I opted for a nap over writing time.

While I was pregnant with my second child, my husband hinted that I might consider getting a master of arts degree at the local university. I wanted to, but surely grad school was not something a young mom has time for. I waved off the suggestion, but only for a moment. I couldn’t shake the idea. It kept coming to mind and I considered the possibilities. School was not how I should be spending my time, was it?

I would leave it up to chance. Perhaps I wouldn’t get accepted and that would settle it. I applied. A few months later, after birthing my second child, a large envelope appeared in my postbox. I got in.

Working towards a master’s degree while mothering toddlers, getting pregnant again, and birthing a third child taught me that I could do hard things. It took sacrifice. It meant less time for certain activities. It also broadened my mind in ways I didn’t expect. Over time, I realized that I was becoming a better thinker and gaining skills in research, learning, and writing. I was becoming a more capable person.

Change doesn’t usually happen in a split second and neither did this one. Over the course of the program I came to learn the lesson that I had needed to understand all along: What I choose to cultivate is always related to my children. I didn’t need to limit my life in order to be a good mom. Rather, expanding what I invested in made me a better mom. Investing in myself gave me more to offer my family.

Postgraduate education gave me skills I lacked. It made me braver than I had been before. It threw me back into the rhythm of reading and writing. It helped me realize the answer to the question my friend had asked me so long ago: “What do you do?”

Earning my master’s reinforced an idea I’d always had, but hadn’t had the courage to fully pursue. It was writing that I cared about most. Not painting, but writing was what I “did.” Or what I wanted to do.

I came back to writing seven years into motherhood. It was during the first year of the pandemic, I had three small children running around an apartment, and I was on the tail-end of finishing my master’s.

And I wrote.

I wrote during whatever pocket of time I could find. I wrote while my children listened to audiobooks, while they played with LEGO, while they colored. I wrote in between teaching the “homeschool” lessons for my daughter’s school. I wrote while waiting in line at the grocery store. I wrote while sitting at the playground. I scribbled in notebooks. I did fifteen-minute writing sprints. Habitual writing snowballed into writing groups, memberships, more classes, and a variety of projects.

Now, I am a writer.

I am more energetic on the days I write. Adding this into my routine doesn’t take away from my children. Rather, allowing myself time to pursue the things I feel called to gives me more confidence and a clearer mind. It has made me better and a more intentional mother.

I am still growing and still find balance difficult. It may be messy, complicated, and busy, but leaning into something “outside” of motherhood doesn’t take anything away from my children. The investment I made in myself has spilled over into my relationships, breathing life into them too.

Editor’s note: Making of a Mom features stories about the ways motherhood transforms a woman. If you’d like to share your story, review our Readers Write guidelines here.