Sara Sadik - Finding the Magic in Mommyhood: How to Create the Illusion of Sanity amid Raging Hormones, Sleep Deprivation, and Diaper Rash

The aim of this book is not to belittle any mamas hiccup or disregard challenges they may be facing in what is probably the most significant journey in and of their life. In fact, I am fully mindful and conscious of the struggles of many mamas and how lucky I have been to interview a few for my every mama has a hiccup series. They speak of their children as being resilient but the apple doesnt fall far from the tree. Let us all share more and just be more.

Copyright 2018 by Sara Sadik

Illustrations copyright 2018 by Sara Sadik and Adriana Rifai

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Sarah Chehab and Karine Jaber

Cover illustrations by Adriana Rifai

Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-3598-9

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-3599-6

Printed in China

To my mama because I get it now. You showed me that
the hiccups are there for a reason because there would be no
rainbows without them. You made me believe that I could
so I would.

To my Daddy for showing me that every
hardship has a lesson, a chance to succeed, and
a potentially great story in it
waiting to be told.

Mr. Excel for introducing me as your wife, a writer, before
I believed I was one and for always putting the spotlight on
what really mattered and then reminding me to jot it down
on a Post-it note.

To my three little puzzle pieces for making me see the light
through every crack and for making every tiny moment all
that much brighter. You three make the puzzle of
my heart complete.

CONTENTS

A NOTE FOR MY LITTLE PUZZLE PIECES

Adriana (Adsi)

I wrote everything down with you and fretted and made resolutions and rice pudding. I cried just as much as you over every vaccination, if not more. I went overboard on your birthday, and sanitizing, and Gina Ford, and trips to the organic food store. I felt overwhelmed because I didnt understand that I could stay my silly self with you. Exaggerated dance moves included. You had hip dysplasia and it was then that I learned all about perseverance. I mean, why wouldnt you crawl while wearing a hip brace?

Rayan (Rio)

Its like you knew there would be one soon after you. I was chill with you and actually flew to New York when I was seven months pregnant. You forced me to see that nothing was really that big of a deal, unless it was. I was calm, cool, and collected until my water broke at thirty-six weeks. You seemed to take your time to see if you really wanted to be a part of this family, and you realized you didnt have to smile unless you wanted to. No, not even for a picture. Youve got your own groove. And, yeah, theres beauty in nonconformity but you have to wear pants to school. They warned me.

Ramsey (Rambo)

Im sorry that you were squashed in my jeans for so many days and grew in utero off the remnants of your siblings breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. I was paranoid and extra careful with yousteroid shots and allbut survived on mostly chocolate and memories of Mykonos where you Braxton Hicked the night away. Well, until eleven. You taught me that I always have time for one more smile and one more dance.

A LETTER TO MY DIGITAL MAMAS

Times they are a changin and nothing has been sparedleast of all pregnancy and motherhood. I think its great that I can order Pampers, new Havaianas, and the latest New York Times bestseller with one click. But our days are sprinkled with the fake okay, doused with it. Im swimming in it: Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest. All the time. If Im this taken by the virtual, then how affected by technology will my kids be? As a mama this is and will eternally be my number one concern. Oh, that and the monumental collective panic that comes along with it. The days of buttering toast and giving it to our kids with a sore throat (something about the scratchiness helps) are long gone because our gatekeepersanguish and anxietybarge in with red flags about gluten, cholesterol, and crumbs.

Dont get me wrong, there are perks to being a digital mama to digital natives, Im sure, but here are my hopes, fears, and kind requests on keeping it real. Our kids arent growing up like we did and there is a presumption that what was good enough for us, isnt good enough anymore. Why cant we watch Sesame Street and enjoy Oscar the Grouch or the Cookie Monster? The shows first five years from 1969 to 1974 now come with a warning that the content may be inappropriate for todays children. Why? Because Cookie Monster smokes a pipe, Oscar doesnt learn that happiness is a choice, and Big Bird never grows old. I dont know about you, but Im okay with all of that. Its how I grew up, and I want my kids to experience those little bits I remember fondly with my high-pitched Remember? (And, yes, some of those remembers usually involved the mention of Punky Brewster and Doogie Howser.)

So, before communication is reduced to emoji-only, and I get deep into Mark Manson-esque rants in this book, heres a letter to my digital mamas. And, by letter, I mean list. Because attention spans are, well, not what they used to be. Ohhhh, look! I got another follow and three more likes. You still with me?

Breathe in deep and savor the smell of crayons. No scientific journal has yet to prove that there are harmful toxins in inhaling them deeply. (Sticking them far up your nose is another matter, though.)

Scratch scratch n sniff stickers until the tip of your finger is numb.

Please dont let My batterys low be what your little one hears you say more than I love you.

Dont live your life through social media and forget that the messes and cracks are where the magic lies. Live the mess. You dont always have to record it.

I dare you to venture out on the other side of that glass window. Dont be afraid to get scraped knees and tousled hair from the wind. It builds character, and the scars on your elbows will make for some of the best stories and conversation starters at coffee shops or dinner parties. You know this. Dont shy away from it.

Having a profession is not a bad thing! Dont be intimidated by the mamas who post that theyre #blessed being a mom. Its okay if sometimes you post #overit.

Whens the last time you even saw an actual puzzle? You must think me calling my kids puzzle pieces is as bad as if I called them, ma little Rubiks cubesters. Confusing and annoying as hell.

Will you even have the attention span to read this whole list or will you be too busy comparing baby announcements and who has a cuter Anne Geddesstyle newborn photoshoot?

You probably stopped reading this halfway through to Google mindfulness and how to manage your newborn and your platform.

I think we need to be okay with not preparing our children for every possible kind of future hoping one of our efforts may pay off. Were unable to code for this, so lets all hold hands and step outside. Smile and make eye contact. Stop posting pictures of our newborns and go smell them instead. And in case youre reading this on a Kindle, at least read it with sunshine on your skin. Deal?