First, a disclaimer: Let me state that I am not implying that you need an advanced degree to be an awesome mama. There are women of all levels of education – including those who never finished high school – who are far more competent mothers than I. (There are likely hamsters who are better mothers than I, and they eat their babies.) In fact, there’s pretty much no direct education or training that can prepare you for the patience-depleting assholery and genuine emotional turmoil that lie ahead as that sweet li’l fetus swims in your uterus. But graduate school was a part of my journey. And here are the things that it taught me (besides how to give a subpar explanation of the Toulmin Method to a sea of disinterested college freshman… which, incidentally circles back around to relevant as the tween years are upon me):
1. You’re not going to be the best anymore. Most people in graduate school were the best in their undergrad classes. The smartest. The most thorough. The most creative. It’s incredibly jarring when you realize that everyone sitting in your masters classes with you was also always the smartest, the most thorough and the most creative. That pesky small fish/big pond deal. It’s lonely and weird to look around and see everyone learning faster than you and no one caring if you keep up or not (see #5). As a mom, your early trips out into motherhood arenas can be a lot like that. Parks, mommy & me groups, even family gatherings. Everyone else seems to just get it, to simply know how. Accept it. Then ask them for help.
2. You don’t get to have a life for a few years. My first week of grad school, my advisor gave me an article that was written by the graduate assistants from the previous year. It said, in thick bold letters, “School. Sleep. Social life. Pick two.” Being a parent is kind of like that. Except, a truer version would be something like, “Parenting. Sleep. Social life. Romance. Self care. Intellectual curiosity. Etcetera ad nauseum. Pick one. But only pick parenting. Or else you are a really shitty human who doesn’t deserve to have kids.” Oh, and no one is going to think you’re clever or accomplished for going through with it. The only accolades you’ll get is that occasionally your kid will spit up on a bib instead of on your clothes or inside your mouth.
4. Coffee makes a lot of things better and alcohol doesn’t. Grad school, like motherhood, is a turning point in your life where it’s time to grow the fuck up. There’s nothing wrong with blowing off steam once in a while, but if you need a substance to fuel your work, remember that you’re not Hemingway (or some fabulous Manhattanite with a full-time nanny). You have work to do. You need a clear head, and hangovers are infinitely worse with both deadlines and toddlers.
5. Form a tribe – you’re going to need it. In grad school and motherhood, the trenches are real. It’s a dark, terrifying, grinding, exhausting state of mind, and you basically have three choices. 1, Fail. 2, Suck it up and claw your way through it. Or 3, Find your village, support each other, compare strategies, share your battle scars and lift each other up. You know which option I chose... I have the souvenir mug to show for it.