👋 I Don't Feel Like It

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Yesterday, I celebrated my second Mother’s Day as a mom.

That feels so weird to say because even though I’ve been with my little baby girl for 782 days, I don’t feel like I have the credentials to be anyone’s mom.

If I was in a big auditorium and they asked all the moms to stand up so they could be properly honored, I’d sit up straight in my chair and clap and cheer for everyone standing.

How wonderful! I’d say looking around feeling like I don’t deserve to be standing up there with them.

Sometimes, the people who love me ask me why I’m like this. Why I can’t just come to terms with the fact that I.am.a.mom.

Politely they’ll say: What the heck is wrong with you?

And I’ll look back at them like they are absolutely delulu.

Come on! Me? A mom? No. I’m too young to be someone’s mom. Reader: I’m 36.

I’m too busy climbing the corporate ladder! Reader: I’ve worked as a solopreneur for almost a decade.

I can barely take care of my self. Reader: This one is true. I did eat pizza for dinner the past five nights.

When the convo dies down and my friends accept that I’m perpetually an oddball, I’ll settle back into my self and realize:

The way I see myself is so flawed. I always feel like a phony.

I know exactly why that is.

It just took two Mother’s Day for me to say it out loud.

👋Welcome to the Monday Pick-Me-Up. Did you know that you could have a long list of credentials, a packed resume of experience, a dusty shelf in your office with awards and accomplishments, and still feel like a complete and utter imposter? That’s my motherhood journey. Let me explain…

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Being a mom should come natural. But not for me.

Since becoming a mom, I do this annoying thing where I desperately try to make eye contact with anyone else who has a baby under two.

It’s my silent way of asking: Hello, I’m in this too. Do you want to sit under a tree and talk about how hard all of this is?

It’s my way of trying to peer into this stranger’s soul and gauge how they are really doing because people’s truths aren’t always so evident on their face or how their hands grip the stroller. Social media posts lie. Everyone is so happy on Instagram all of the time.

Occasionally, my eye contact wins. Smiles start, mouths open, I’ll ask the mom I do not know:

On a scale of 1-10, how are you getting by?

Being a mom isn’t something that comes naturally to me. It never has. I fear it never will. It feels like a job I got because I lied on my resume. It feels like having a boss who never tells you exactly what they want but will fire you if you don’t figure it out.

To be a good mom, it often feels like you have to be a psychic, therapist, hostage negotiator, sales associate, and someone who is really good at customer service. I am none of those things.

I’m a too hard on myself creative whose thoughts make her money but also have the power to make her feel like she’s a complete failure.

And when it comes to thinking about how I am as a mom, it’s hard for me not to feel like a complete mess.

Recently, in the elevator at Whole Foods with Gemma, I stared down a mom of two before she asked:

How old is your baby?

14-months, I said, rushing to continue. And on a scale of 1-10, how are you doing as a mom of two?

She looked more overwhelmed by my question than she did as a mom and simply said:

Honestly, good.

Liar!!! I wanted to spit out as a reply. But luckily the elevator door opened up and I answered a question she didn’t ask me:

Yeah, me too. Same!!!!!

I was not doing good. I was not feeling like mom the year.

So I followed this woman to the vegetable section and creeped up close to her cart.

Me again! I laughed. How though? How are you doing all of this?

She grabbed a heavy bag of carrots as if it was a warning that if I didn’t stop following her around the neighborhood grocery store she’d toss them in my face.

I don’t know what to tell you. She sighed, annoyed that I was trying to make her my mom guru. You just do it, OK? You just somehow do it.

I don’t know what I was hoping she’d tell me. I know that there are no secrets to motherhood because I’ve tried dozens of the ones Instagram moms preached in Reels and it made me more confused.

I know that nobody can teach you how to be a mom because I’ve begged friends with kids to move into my tiny one-bedroom in Brooklyn and show me how to do all of this and they have simply laughed and sweetly said: You’ve got this. Listen to your gut.

I love them. But I really dislike hearing that.

Because during my absolute toughest and roughest moments as a mom in the last year and a half, everyone, from doctors to teachers in Gemma’s baby class, to the strangers I follow around grocery stores as they push their own strollers, have told me to trust my freaking gut.

And I’ve tried. I’ve tugged on my belly fat and frantically asked:

Gut! It’s me. Jen freaking Glantz. What am I supposed to do?

And my gut, all sluggish and perturbed, has whispered back:

Jen, I do not have a Ph.D in this. I’m filled with rotten pizza. Lots of it. You really expect me to have the answers?

And then it ghosts me and I’m left reading articles on Google trying to figure out what to do, what’s going on, and what my baby needs.

Before giving birth, so many people told me that it was normal to be scared to be a mom. Once that baby comes, it’s magic. You’ll know how to be her mom. It’s natural.

I replay those words quite often and they make me feel like an imposter. Because I don’t feel that way.

When you’re in a situation, even when you deserve to be there, but it feels differently than what people always told you it would feel like, it’s hard to feel like you belong.

I’m still figuring out so much about motherhood and I’m doing it without any strong gut feelings or paper manuals.

But on my second Mother’s Day, I’m realizing that I have spent 700-something days with a beautiful little girl who laughs at my silliest dance moves, smiles when I ramble, and never gets tired of range of voices I make when I read her books.

I have raised a happy, sweet, strong, courageous, and extremely determined little girl. That’s all I ever hoped for and that makes me feel like an A+ mom.

If I can sum up motherhood it would be the cliche Nike slogan the grocery store mom threw at me, instead of the bag of carrots:

You just do it.

Lately, every morning for the past month, Gemma has been waking up between 5am and 5:30am. Before being a mom, that wasn’t an hour I was familiar with. But when she wakes up at 5:15am ready to start the day, I wake up with her and always, I ask:

On a scale of 1-10, how are you today?

She doesn’t understand that question yet but she looks at me with her cartoon eyes and toothy smile and wraps her arms around me.

I love 5am’s with Gemma not because I have to “just do it” but because eventually, some things you “just do” as a mom, become little traditions that make motherhood feel like someplace you belong.

I’m not a professional mom but I’m Gemma’s mom and Goofy’s mom.

I’m forever grateful that I get to say that and be somebody special to my two special girls.

Love,

Jen

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⚡Instant Pick Me Ups

📚: The next book on my read list has a fun title and a quirky cover

🎵: Fun little tune to blast on repeat

👗: Added a few new things to my closet this week including:

• I am obsessed with this onesie. I haven’t taken it off all week. I put a zip-up hoodie over it and wear it everywhere. It’s so comfortable but also so, so, flattering. Worth every penny.

• I swear by this face mask. It clears my skin in minutes. Sometimes I even put a glob of it on a big pimple and keep it on overnight. When I wake up, the pimple has left the building.

• I bought this in white and black. I wear it over tank tops and it elevates the entire look.

• Instead of jean shorts, I’m rocking these with blazers or long-sleeves until the hot days of summer.

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Why you’re getting this: I'm Jen Glantz and this is The Monday Pick-Me-Up newsletter. I've been sending it every Monday, for 9-years, to thousands of awesome humans, just like you. Thank you for letting this email live in your inbox. It truly makes my heart explode with joy.

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