This blog originally came from a blog called "The Color Coded Mom".  It was my first attempt at blogging and it seemed like a good enough way as any to warn my readers about my obsessive tendency to color code things (socks, binder tabs, my children...you know, the usual stuff).

However, after a few years of incredibly-sporadic posting, I began to realize that, despite the quasi-erotic appeal of a perfectly-folded panoply of rainbow-order tee shirts, the thing that was actually driving me to reach out to other moms (i.e. potential internet strangerfriends) was much deeper than that.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I would happily tell you all about my plans to drop her off at Grandbunny's house twice a week from the very beginning because I still wanted to work, at least part time.  I've always considered myself to be driven, I pride myself on my career ambitions, and I've spent 20+ years of my life working very hard on my education (read: degree hoarding).  

I wasn't going to give up my drive just because I decided to procreate, right?

Well, then I gave birth and seriously messed up:  I fell absolutely, head-over-heels in love with my new daughter.

Now this doesn't sound like a big problem (and it technically isn't a problem at all), but it was incredibly problematic.  Here I had all these plans, goals, and desires to be a career woman, but soon after giving birth I found out I had no desire to be away from my daughter.

(My husband asked me in the hospital if I "liked her" yet, as one of my irrational pregnancy fears had been that I wouldn't like the baby.  My response was a very heartfelt "I'm not sure yet, but I'm 100% positive I'll claw the face off anyone who tries to get near her...".  He laughed and assured me that was a "yes".)

So you have this new potato-looking thing and you become ridiculously attached to it.  That's a good thing, right?

But what happens to that career-driven, soul-hungry, purposeful side of you when you have these little humans and become absolutely obsessed with them?  Does it just go away?

In my experience, the answer is no.  You love your new role as "mom" and you would rather die than give up a single hour with this new little critter you've created, but that part of you that wants to have a purpose, bring home the bacon, and be important in its own right doesn't go away either.

So this puts you in a quandary, but you don't notice it right away.  Usually you're so sleep-deprived, hopped up on new-mommy-hormones, and swimming in diapers and swaddling blankets that you don't notice the void right away.

For me it hit when my husband switched jobs soon after our daughter was born.  He'd come home each day and tell me all the interesting things that happened, all the amazing things he'd accomplished, and (like the awesome, loving husband he is) ask how my day went.  I had nothing to say.

You can't really make your day sound glamorous, interesting, or important when you're a stay at home mom.  "Well, I managed to fold the entire load of laundry during the baby's nap so when she woke up I got to feed her without worrying about a laundry avalanche burying us both in clean-but-unfolded baby clothes, I'm down to only three cruise-ship-sized, post-pardom maxi pads a day now so I think I might be able to walk around the block without waddling, and I was really ambitious so I managed to wipe down the kitchen counter while breastfeeding.  Huzzah!"  Doesn't really sound like an accomplishment.  (Even though it really, really is.)

This is when I started to notice the feeling that I was going slowly out of my mind.

Momming is the most amazing thing in the world.  I still melt every time my little toddlernado gives me a hug, says she loves me without any prompting from my end, or says "mommy" in her sleep.  There is no feeling in the world like it. 

That's why it's so hard to explain why it isn't totally fulfilling all of my self-esteem needs.  

The metaphor I've finally decided upon is that taking care of my family is like icing.  Icing is the sweetest, most wonderful thing on the planet.  It tastes better than anything else and its presence makes almost anything else taste better.

However, if all you ate was icing, you would never be truly full.  You need cake too.

The cake, in this metaphor, is whatever makes you feel fulfilled, valuable, and purposeful as a human being (that person you were before you became so-and-so's mom).  The fact that you need cake does not in any way diminish your love of the icing.  In fact, it compliments it, gives it structure, and makes it taste even better.

As I began to grapple with this issue (me needing to find some cake and stat!), I began doing a whole lot of research (which I love) and some pretty honest soul-searching (which sucked).

I had to go through the process of finding out how to feed that part of my soul that really needed to find some personal purpose, meaning, and identity, even though 159% of my time, energy, and effort was happily dedicated to being a mom.

I'm by no means done, but I've learned a lot so far on my journey.  This blog is an homage to that journey.  I hope it will help other moms (whether first-time, new moms or battle-scarred, mom veterans with stories that would put mine to shame).

If my lessons can help anyone else who has just realized that momming doesn't come with a guide book, then I've fulfilled my purpose.

So look around!  You'll see things about four basic topics: keeping your house clean, keeping your marriage healthy, kid-related stuff, and things geared towards taking care of mom herself.

If you don't see answers to whatever problem is making you feel crazy, drop me a line in the comments (or via email/facebook/carrier pigeon/whatever) and I'll do my best to look into it with my special mix of research and sarcasm.  (You can't get through the day without sarcasm.  Or, you could, but why would you want to?)

Hope to hear from you soon,
Liz