The Mom Next Door Series: Introduction

On Mother's Day at church this year, I stood up with all the other mums at mass that morning when the priest asked all mothers to stand for a blessing; as I have for the past four years.  And, also as I have for the past four years, my eyes welled up in the moment as I looked around me at the mixed assortment of mums we all were.  

There was me and my mother-in-law, separated in our pew by my father-in-law and my two kids; her two grandkids.  While her "kid" sat next to me as my husband.  There was a new mom swaying side to side holding her newborn.  An experienced mom flanked on either side by her teenage children.  Someone's mum who was no younger than 75 that was alone in her pew, but standing for the blessing all the same.  Young moms, older moms, friends of mine who are moms, mums I've admired growing up, moms I never knew; but all of us moms.  

The priest's prayer, I regretfully admit, was drowned out in my mind by the sudden urge to shout, "Wait.  Just stop a second,"  as I was deeply moved to just call all us moms in the center aisle for a giant group hug.  

I didn't announce that, but rather I stood there with my poor heart in a vice and tears in my eyes as I thought- we are all the same.  Haven't we all spent a sleepless night worrying about a sick child?  Haven't we all picked up a cup of coffee mid-morning only to realize it was already cold?  Haven't we all smiled at a child's first discovery of some tiny life experience we up until that moment forgot to appreciate?  Haven't we all berated ourselves that we could be better, that we need to try not to screw this thing up as much as possible?

It is not only on Mother's Day, but quite frequently in flashes of emotion that I also think too of the mothers of my life that have passed away.  My two grandmothers who passed before I officially became a mother, although my maternal grandmother was present for most of my first pregnancy.  It is now, as a mum, that I feel even more connected to my grandmothers, even though neither of them ever had the chance to meet my children or see what kind of mother I turned out to be.

And obviously, the very profound and startling realization that all new moms must feel after the birth of their first child towards their own mother.  My own written here.

I also recently read Cheryl Strayed's birth story and agree with Jill and Sara that this passage from the post sums up the basics of having a baby:

"Every time I had a contraction I thought, you have got to be f*cking kidding me! 

It seemed preposterous that this was the way birth got done. 

I felt solidly and profoundly connected to all the female mammals of the world. 

Not just the women who’d birthed, but the cats and the bears and the lemurs too."

And even with that deep realization that I experience every mother's day and the profound connectedness that I feel with all mother mammals in the world or in history (truly!), I still am plagued with moments of other-mom-judgement on a regular basis.  Even despite the fact that I daily scold my former pre-mom self for proclamations I so arrogantly vowed I would never do as a mother myself. 

And even though I have a deep respect for anyone that contributes love, learning, and support to any child in any capacity; I still carry my own versions of, "ugh, that's not how you should be doing that," issues towards other moms and their choices - usually without any insight to their own personal struggles or journeys.   

This is not something I admit proudly, I hope that much is obvious.  But it is something that I continually want to try to be better at.  And out of all of these reflections, I have decided to host an interview series on the blog this summer with Moms that are very different,  yet somehow (as all moms are) also inexplicably exactly like me - and maybe you'll find exactly different and yet somehow like you.  

Maybe getting a peek into their everyday lives, struggles, and total commonplace normalcy that we each experience - it will help me (and all of us) see that every mom we see from our own moms, to our sisters, to our friends, to the mom from the blogs we read, to the mom we pass in the grocery store is simply just a Mom Next Door.  Just like us, no matter how she chooses (or her current situation dictates) that her life and motherhood may be different from our own.  

Each Tuesday this summer, I hope to post a new interview from another Mom Next Door.  With questions ranging from 'What are the small joys you treasure each day as a Mum' to 'What keeps you up at night,' to 'What do you feel like you wish you did better as a Mum.'  

I have some Mums in mind that I'd love to interview because they inspire me - but I'd love to hear from all moms - old, young, experienced, or brand new mums.  Please reach out to me if you - or someone you know would like to be interviewed at studerteam.tabitha@gmail.com 

I can't wait to get this series started and hopefully get a weekly reminder that every mom is struggling and loving this very unique and somehow all very same journey.  Join me on Tuesdays this summer for the Mom Next Door Interview Series!

a love letter to worms

Dear worms,

You  may recognize these two kids' faces.

These two children belong to me.  I am writing to say thank you for your patience as you bring much joy to the daily lives of my kids.  

You see, Worms, the reason you recognize these children's faces is because they are always searching for you and they are usually successful.  You frequently hear the sounds of their shovels, diggers, and delighted shrieks as they ramble on and on about how they will "find us some worms today, baby!"

It is with love of the purest kind that they seek you out, to hold you in their hands so that you can wiggle and tickle their palms.  Thank you for being so accepting of our relocation program (not that you have a real choice), but I believe you will find your new home in our kid-selected "Worm Box" comfortable and full of all of your favorite things; mainly dirt.



You can rest easy in our Worm Box, as these children who so lovingly hunt for, transport, and place you in your new home, also stand guard to scare away birds from the Worm Box.  They are your protectors; I found them shouting in unison, "Get away from our worms, Birds!" with a fervor that is usually reserved only for religious extremists and people suffering from severe road rage.

If my children gleefully discover you in any location that is not our home; and let's be honest here, they're always looking so this is a very common occurrence, they proceed to display you to anyone nearby with honest pride for all that is you.  It matters not if these fellow humans are complete strangers, family, or friends they just made 2 minutes prior and have a clear fear or distaste for creatures of your nature.  

My children are so infatuated with you that they incorrectly believe every single human on the planet should also want to hold and admire you too.  If the human politely declines, my children will force them to hold you anyway, gently placing you on the person's most stable body part (knees, feet, hand outstretched in the "ew" position).  There may be a moment of jostling at this time, but that is brief before you are carefully placed "back with your family" in the dirt.

The two reasons I would like to say that I love you Worms,  are these:   First, you provide extended periods of attention and happy independent play for my children.  You are like a rare phenomenon that occurs in my days where I can quickly accomplish multiple tasks that having children hanging on or 'helping' is very difficult.  Things like mopping the floor, using the restroom, or sneaking chocolate from my secret stash without sharing.  I am so grateful to you for that.  

Secondly, you bring out the most beautiful and sincere compliments that my children offer up to each other.  Gemma toddles over with worm in hand to announce in awe, "Wook, Booboo found dis." Just yesterday, Greyson announced aloud at the playground, "Gemmi, you are the greatest worm digger in the whole world!"  and then proudly told his Dad at dinner the same thing and adding, "She found two worms at the playground! Can you believe that?" He had never been more proud of his little sister in her 2 years of life.

There is truly no greater compliment in our home right now than "Great Worm Digger."

You are such a small creature, Worms, but know that to us - you are a very big deal.

Love always,
The Studers

thank YOU thursday: Someone who is a beacon of love

Dear Grammar,

I met you when I was fifteen; I was the girlfriend of your only grandson.  Your house is the backdrop for so many of my memories dating Brandon in high school.  B and I painted my homecoming signs in your basement and we got into a paintbrush battle (how puppy love high school of us) and you laughed and just told us to make sure we clean up the mess when we're done.

You are one of only three people on this planet (and one in Heaven) that calls me "Tabi."  I have birthday, anniversary, and congratulations cards saved in a box that are all signed (regardless of exactly when in the fifteen years I received them), "Love, Grammar."  I've celebrated holidays at your house, shared dinner with the whole family or just with you at your table, and I've fallen asleep on your couches.  Never once have I felt like your house was somewhere that I didn't belong.

And now, half of my life later, you're the Mimi of my own kids.  You whisper "I love you," in their ears and the knowledge that they will think of that with fondness as adults fills my heart to the brim.  You bring them treats in your purse for B's basketball games, and you sweetly scold me when I tell the kids to clean up.  "They're just kids,"  you say, "it's just a mess."

Because, I suppose after three kids, four grandkids, five great-grandkids and now two more on the way!  You know the only thing that is not possible to clean up or fix is time.  It keeps marching on, and babies keep growing, and the best thing in life that can happen is to continue to accumulate more loved ones.  Which is why you also count all the spouses of your kids and grandkids as your own too.  And actually, most of our closest friends consider you family; each of them call you Grammar or Mimi too.

You are a beacon of love, Mimi, to so many people.

I've lost both of my grandmothers; a heartache I have carried everyday since they each passed.  And yet when we were talking to the kids the other day about how lucky they are to have three grandmothers to celebrate for Mother's Day, when Grey asked me how many I had, without pause I answered, "Two in Heaven and Mimi; she's is my grandma too."

Because, truly, what is the definition of a grandma but someone who loves you without conditions.  And I have always felt that you have done that for me.

Thank you Meems,
love you forever,
Tabi