Motherhood - The Comeback Tour

How do you thank someone for saving your life? A leetle heavy to be starting what will hopefully be an uplifting and inspiring story, but I must set the bar as dramatically high as possible ~for effect~. Those who are close to me know I have experienced an incredible reversion to my Catholic faith over the past nine months and for those who don’t, I’m incredibly proud to share that publicly. I feel called to try to put into writing this transformation from the modern day boss babe to the vocational head hen God created me to be. It turns out the perfect job I was born for was right in front of me, patiently waiting for me to stop scoffing and rolling my eyes at the idea of being a full time mother and wife. Not even a year ago, I was listening to and reading from women who were encouraging others to make the jump! It’s totally worth it! Give up your car! Sell your house! You only need your family! … PASS. Last year, I was rolling my eyeballs like dice when I saw posts like this, in between answering Susan’s email and barely getting to ballet on time, even though I politely said I had a hard stop at 3:45. This is no offense to Susan or the sweetest ballet class of 4 year olds you’ll ever see, if anything it’s the opposite. I look back on those hurried, stressful, but plastered on smile anyway times with peace rather than regret. I have become the very woman I wrote off as not understanding, not living in the area or having the college debt I did, having the family close by to help that I didn’t, and lots of other dismissive and ultimately envious thoughts. I’m here to tell you I’ve been incredibly humbled to learn that I have been blessed with the truest and most important job of a lifetime - motherhood. The most challenging, unexpected, rewarding, invaluable, outlasting and ultimately humbling role I didn’t have to apply for but God deemed me worthy of doing anyway. I used to say I was Catholic, but not THAT Catholic, like it was a smelly loser older cousin that you tried to pretend you weren’t related to but under threat you admit you know them. Only in a passing sense, don’t pass it on. Now I would die for my faith and am unafraid to live the way Christ died for us-openly.

I think part of the reason we hear of troubling marriage stats and dwindling family rates is the cheapened role of the mother in a child’s life. We can’t change a society or culture if we’re not willing to look at how that society is being raised, shaped, taught, shown how to act, etc. We’ve become accustomed to instant gratification, instantaneous results, 2 day shipping, priority overnight, get rich quicks, instant fat loss and all the other promised short cuts that are simply and sadly incompatible with how human beings and societies work. History is measured in generations and centuries, not trends and Spotify wrapped lists. We’re living in a culture that celebrates individualism and everyone can be a winner, and when that happens you end up winning $57 from the lottery a la Bruce Almighty. In other words, we have to expect that massive cultural changes will have massive cultural implications that we cannot foresee until it has been lived and born out. The birth control pill was rolled out in the 1960s and since then women have been gaining in the workplace and would eventually go on to outpace men in obtaining college degrees. That is incredible progress for a generation that felt shut out of discourse, a yearn to be more than a wife and mother, and something to prove-that they were equal to or better than men. To be strong meant independence, an ability to take care of yourself BY yourself and yourself alone, to prove you can do it alone. I did. I was on birth control for eight years, went to college for a steal of $100k (in state yes sir), got married, had 2 kids (check) and worked my way up to a six figure remote position with a big time company with ultra liberal values. I was living the dream! I say that with a kiss of sarcasm, because I really was living my version of a dream come true. I have two beautiful children and was hoping (not really praying) that my oldest would be accepted into the local Catholic school so I wouldn’t have to worry about her education. I was writing her off, after I finished firing off that email to Susan I never sent before ballet. I was on a hamster wheel of life going about with superficial platitudes about my faith and doom scrolling between (during) episodes of whatever I was bingeing. That is the sad, twisted lie I was sold by modern secular society - that if I could attain independence and prove I could do it all on my own, I’d make it! I’d have the dream! But … Who would be there when I looked up from the hamster wheel once I had achieved it all? Maybe my husband, if I hadn’t been short and annoyed with him earlier. Maybe my older daughter, if I hadn’t set her up with a movie in the living room so I could finish that email poor Susan apparently would never read. The summit I reached was actually really isolating, stressful, rife with uncertainty and little actual, meaningful love. It took capturing that mantle, reaching that height of American twenty first century dream to realize it would never be enough. I tried to outrun what I thought was driving me and fortunately, by divine intervention, I was saved from myself through the gracious forgiveness of the church and enveloped in her mercy. If that is all too much for you, I get it. It was too much for me too. That is why I feel called to try to share some of my experience, because I was there at the shore afraid to wade in for fear of sinking right to the bottom. But as our Lord tells Peter in Matthew 14:30-32, “but when he saw how [strong] the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him, and said to him, “O you of little faith,why did you doubt?” After they got into the boat, the wind died down. Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying, “Truly, you are the Son of God.” Everyone knows the story of Peter walking on the water, but assume we aren’t also standing on the shore, afraid to follow our Lord and Savior, crying out for his comforting embrace. Is it too much to believe that if we cried out, there will be an answer? Not for me, not anymore. 

I can point to a very specific moment when this changed for me, but I don’t think that matters as much as living the change. It’s the epilogue of the story, the after photo or the post op that we look forward to for judging something’s credibility or success. When we moved to our new house, based on a dual income at the time, I was welcomed into the local church community with nothing but gracious and earnest warm welcomes, immediately receiving invitations for fellowship opportunities, home visits, prayer intentions and many more truly inspiring experiences. These women, their husbands and children are living the way Jesus Christ called us to live, inviting and welcoming everyone-new or recently returning- to his Church, to repent and submit their will to his. I never used to think this way, let alone write this way, but that happened over time. Time I have had since leaving my job at the beginning of the year to stay home full time with my two daughters. Something I’ve been able to experience that I wasn’t getting, and wouldn’t have gotten, in between rushed moments before-is seeing one of my children do something for the first time. I don’t think that's something exclusive to infancy, toddlerhood or even youth. When we accomplish something for the first time, particularly unexpectedly, our first instinct is to look around to see if someone saw it, if there was someone there to witness that triumph. I can conjure a bunch of different memories where I looked up and asked ‘DID YOU SEE THAT???’. It’s difficult to describe a feeling like that when my four year old daughter draws a big G for the first time perfectly and then looks at me with the same surprise and equal excitement I feel for getting it on the first try. FREE HAND, I’ll add. Or when my nineteen month old says ‘love you’ or ‘HI MAHMAH’ with a big toothy grin when she sees me in the morning. They look at me first, they know I’m watching and know I’m their teacher and their mother. A mother has a unique, one of a kind relationship to their child(ren). That is not to say superior or better than a father or any other family member involved in their daily life. But it would be dishonest and a continuation of bad faith to deny that motherhood can be replaced when it cannot. The role of the mother cannot be substituted or subsidized, it can only be fulfilled and through the grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ. That is not by accident, nothing about human beings is by accident. Motherhood is by design and one of the most critical, singularly important gifts God gave to humanity. Who else would be entrusted to carry on civilization? It’s only recently I’ve been humbled to learn the value of raising my children to get to Heaven, to lead a life of holiness, rather than success or independence. Those are secondary to the pursuit of holiness, not happiness. Why do you think we say someone has a face only a mother could love? Because it’s TRUE. I dare any of you to criticize an hours old infant photo, you will find only the fiercest mother bears coming out in defense for their little Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. 

I used to plan for the future, when my husband and I would be able to take a trip to Italy-maybe using our Amex points. I used to picture two perfect sweet little girls in their Catholic school uniforms making friends and growing up in a comfortable middle class life. These pictures would flash in my mind in between Teams meetings, grocery deliveries, daycare pick up, doom scrolling and episode bingeing while packing for a work trip the next day. But I had made it! I was doing what I wanted when I wanted, going out to dinner when I wanted, DoorDashing for the third time that week probably, ordering cute stuff on Amazon because why not treat myself??? I had a hard day??? I don’t look back on that time now with regret or even anger, or envy. I look back on that time and sort of smile to myself that that was all I was worried about. If I died the next day, well-come on, I’m not. Its not my luck to die before the worst meeting of the week on Wednesday which happens every week and ballet is on Thursday this week because they’re closed for Halloween. Oh, we needed to get witch hats. But to borrow a phrase from my workin girl days- let’s unpack that. If I were to die tomorrow, would I have done all I can do to set my children up for the future without me? Would they have the unwavering foundation of faith in Jesus Christ, his Church and the eternal reward that is Heaven if we keep his holy commandments? MAYBE! Probably not, if I’m shooting it straight. But let’s say I have time, I have the time I’ve been blindly counting on and expecting to have. Am I living the life, teaching my children and participating in the community in a way that I will feel satisfied leaving for my children and God willing future generations? Am I contributing to or helping to shape a culture I feel proud of and at peace knowing I left the world a better place for their flourishing? God willing, they will live on after me. God comfort me, if there is a future in which I have to live without them. In either case, I need to know I’ve prepared us, myself included, for a world and life where Jesus Christ is and will always be the answer. I have never asked myself these kind of questions and the weight of these type of questions used to scare me and I’d think to myself it’s not that deep. Now I can say resolutely that I am dedicated and committed to being the mother my children need, not just have. 

In the instant gratification, treat yoself culture we’re living in, it’s not hard to defend the structure of the two working parent household. I also strived to provide my children a comfortable life where money would be of no concern for them, they would have all the gidgets and gadgets I didn’t have and live in a nice suburban home in a middle class neighborhood. Part of being a parent is wanting your children to have what you didn’t have, to give them more than what you were given, to give them an easier life than you had, so on and so forth. There is nothing wrong with that drive, in fact for me it was where my ultimate weakness and blindspot was. In my pursuit to give them the perfect life, I wasn’t actually raising them. The time I was spending with them was short tempered, often frustrated and irritable, briefly enjoyable but mostly exhausting. I used to feel ashamed for feeling this way, fearing that there was something wrong with me and wondering how every other mother seemed to love their children so easily and naturally. It didn’t feel like it came to me naturally, but I took comfort in seeing posts on social media that this was normal burnout mom stuff and just pour a glass of wine, start again tomorrow. So that’s what I did and to be fair still sometimes do! I am a fallen sinner still, after all. Though those days are much fewer and further between and end much calmer than ever before. It wasn’t until I felt God move on my heart (again, a phrase I used to roll my eyes at-but it’s true) to leave my job and stay home that I fell in love with motherhood. You would think someone who DREADED having to do a couple of days with my children at home would do it permanently? On purpose? Commitment anyone??? Now I look forward to spending everyday with them, learning or re-learning new things beside them, laughing at and with them, hearing and making them laugh or smile, or seeing them do or say something for the first time. Nothing will describe the love I feel for my children, in the way we can’t quite articulate the feeling when a breeze hits just right or the way an old song brings back the fondest of memories. Life didn’t have the depth or meaning to it the way it does now that I’ve surrendered to the sacrifice. Life isn’t supposed to be about treating myself, it’s supposed to be about sacrificial love which is more delicious than any Reese’s pumpkin or Amazon gadget will ever be. 

In the interest of fairness and transparency, for anyone’s eyes that haven’t rolled off in to the sunset and are still with me, I am not here to color you a beeeeautiful picture of everyday life. It is every bit less exciting, just as hectic, even louder, sometimes smellier, just as tense and rife with challenges as it was before. We are in no way financially comfortable, at least not in the way we were with two incomes and a 2.5% interest rate. We are blessed to have a beautiful home we absolutely fell in love with in a rural area with ACTUAL chickens. I am a farmer and have real life chickens I raised from birth that LAY EGGS. IT WORKED. If you know me, you know I hate bugs. And yet I have actual livestock living on a dirt road … laid back swervin like I’m George Jones. Life is a garden, chicks dig it and you have to let God cook! If you want to have the life that will bring you the most joy, fellowship, grace, mercy, difficulty, pain and purpose. It comes with a cost and there are compromises you must accept, including working with -not against- your husband. It would be news to my husband and he would rightly demand to know who this writer is and what I’ve done with his wife upon reading such things. But ever the master Creator, God’s genius is unmatched and our relationship has weathered the storms over the past almost ten years together, six of them married. There is no one else on earth, by design, that was meant to be my husband and I his wife. We compliment each other perfectly and continue to grow together, stronger everyday. My love for him has deepened in ways I wasn’t capable of before. Similarly with my children, I yearn to be a better wife to him and eagerly, not derisively, ask sincerely how I can serve him better. I used to pity women who submitted to their husbands and thought ‘those sad saps, couldn’t be me’. When I recall those thoughts now, I’m deeply hurt and saddened by my own callousness and flippancy of my husband’s character or ability to lead us. My husband respects my opinion, values my feedback, encourages my ideas, defends my honor (even if I’m in the cups!), celebrates my achievements, shares in my joy, protects our family, and provides for our livelihood. That simply couldn’t have been our arrangement or relationship if I was working 50 hours a week and spending 1-2 hours a day at best with my family. Only after getting out of the hustle culture could I have had the time, stillness, quiet and reflection to receive such humbling graces. 

Chicks chasing chick(en)s - we've come full circle.

We don’t have it all figured out, in fact we’re still figuring it out and will continue to evolve and learn as we go. There are sacrifices I’ve had to make, times where I’ve had to deny myself little luxuries I didn’t have to think twice about before and those times still sting. I’m sharing some of those instances not to pat myself on the back, don’t worry-I make my husband do that for me, but to show that I know the fear and hang ups that keep someone from making this decision to stay home. I drive a 2005 Ford Expedition with 290,000 miles on it that was my husband’s family vehicle. Everyone is always pleasantly surprised to hear she is still alive and kicking, sometimes with a hammer to the solenoid (yes, I’m using that word on purpose to be COOL). But you know what- I’m proud to drive that vehicle, it is serving generations of Curtins and gives me unearned invincibility on the road. Don’t tell my husband, because I can’t shatter his unblemished ideas of my perfect driving abilities. But I do take risks from time to time and a big heavy bahooka that accelerates at the speed of smell only gives me more armor, so bring it on EVs. I'm not picking on EVs specifically, but their charging stations are getting in the way of the free air pump I need to use to inflate my leaky tire every few days. And yes I have to use the free air, remember-we’re down to one income. I’m not wasting precious dollar on air pumps. 

It’s hard to be Catholic in today’s world, because when we look around - people don't seem lovable or worth the effort to even try. That isn’t what you’re supposed to say, but that’s how I feel. I pray that will change in my heart and I can write with the sincerity I feel today that one day I will love my fellow man the way Christ calls us to. I want to live in such a way that after meeting me, you know Jesus Christ and think to yourself I could love my fellow man if that’s how they behave and treat others. I want to raise my children to be people who inspire others to use their talents for goodness and the pursuit of truth. We should live courageously, honestly, without fear and serve our communities. In an age when we’re taught to love everyone as they are, which is true on the surface, it has had deleterious results. We have the highest reported rates of mental health conditions, suicide rates, plummeting marriage and fertility rates, and generational separation than ever before. Because we’re not meant to love everyone exactly as they are, meaning exactly where they start or every action they take- which breeds unaccountability, laziness, looking the other way, staying silent in uncomfortable situations. Sometimes willing the good of another means telling them no and that the behavior they’re engaging in is unhealthy and leading to harm. Other times it's setting boundaries, changing your surroundings so that the environments you’re in are filled with shared values, good morals, respectful discourse and general well-being of your family. Or maybe it’s just a few moments to start considering what kind of values you have and how you want your children to observe those values. We should encourage better, more meaningful, more purpose-filled and productive lives for those we care about and even for hopeless jerks. Everyone is called to repent and live according to God’s word, which means everyone is open to salvation.

Now look, I’m not here to be preachy. I’m only trying to spread the gospel and save your souls, so don’t come crying to me when you feel the Lord moving on your heart. Take your cries, pleas, questions, pain, sorrows, triumphs, hardships, celebrations and everything in between to Jesus Christ. Ask him how you can surrender to his will, to lead the life that you were called to, for help finding your vocation, to living your vocation truthfully and unafraid. If anything I’ve written stirs something within you, pokes, prods, perturbs, maybe calls or confirms a calling you’ve been thinking about, even scares or puts you off in any way … hold on to that thread for dear life and pray for the courage to pull on it. God will answer you if you ask the right questions. He will give you the grace you need when you need it. He will push you when you need to be pushed and will comfort you in your hours of need. God is everything we cannot be, but desperately try to please and that is by design. You can rest in Jesus Christ, because you were supposed to. Turn to him, repent to him, serve him and love him. 

If you’re looking for a place to start, say a prayer. Start with just talking to God and say, hey…it’s me. Help me to hear you. Help me learn to love you. Help me submit to your will. Give it time, it doesn’t happen overnight and it doesn’t happen all at once. Change needs time in order to happen. Matthew Kelly is famous for saying “our lives change when our habits change”. This is annoyingly simple and true. Only because I have radically changed my life and reordered my priorities do I have time, and therefore sometimes motivation but not always, to attend a daily mass once a week and mass on Sunday every week. In the last year I’ve only missed mass a handful of times due to illness or traveling, say at least one prayer before I go to sleep every day-even if it’s a glory be before putting the girls to bed or grace before a meal- and read the bible a few times a week. I wouldn’t recognize me if I met me a year ago and would have run screaming for the hills if you showed me this was my life in the future. You can’t picture what can be if you don’t know it’s possible and you can’t love what is possible if you don’t put in the time and work for the possible to become reality. This is all a bunch of hubbub to say - it’s real. God is real. The love and joy and irreplaceable role and gift of motherhood is real. You’re never too old to feel the beginning of wonder when you see the big G for the first time. I’m incredibly grateful for and humbled from the experiences that brought me to this point, which wouldn’t be my story if I hadn’t taken the path created for me. Trust in the story God has planned for you. Ask Him for help writing it. It’s what He hopes you will do. If this reaches no one or only one person, it is worth sharing the wholly indescribable but life changing love that I found in Jesus Christ. If you take nothing else from this, never stop praying. For your husband, your children, our nation and the Church. 

How do you thank someone for saving your life? Far be it for me to say, but I’d love to show you how I try on Sunday. I hope to see you there.