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I’m turning into my mother—and I’m so grateful for that

The truth is, you understand me in a unique way that my husband, children or best girlfriends never will.

I’m turning into my mother—and I’m so grateful for that

Dear Mom,

Whew, today was another doozy. It was exhausting and hilarious and busy and lonely and sometimes all of that at once. But you know that's how it goes when raising a toddler and a newborn—and look at us! We all survived!


In the midst of today, there were about a dozen moments I wanted to call you. That's my first instinct: If it's good news, I want to call you. If it's bad news, I want to call you. If there is no news at all, I still want to call you.

Because no matter what I have to say, those few minutes on the phone with you are more about what doesn't have to be said.

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The truth is, you understand me in a unique way that my husband, children or best girlfriends never will. (Love them as I do!)

Apparently, there's a scientific reason for that: According to a recent study, the brains of mothers and daughters, in particular, are incredibly similar when it comes to emotional processing. That suggests you can imagine how I feel about different situations and are amazingly equipped at responding in *just* the right way.

I didn't need a study to tell me that. Through hurt knees and heartbreaks, you've always been there for me—even when we're hundreds of miles apart.

In many ways, though, it feels like I now need you more than ever before. (Recalling my baby years, you may disagree.)

That's because you're the only one who understands not just what it means to be a mother, but what it means to be the kind of mother I aspire to be.

You say you've forgotten much about the early days of motherhood. As someone in the thick of sleep deprivation, I can totally understand that.

Although you don't remember the specifics, you know how you felt. So while my husband is sympathetic to my woes about breastfeeding or the complicated emotions that go along with being a working mom, you have true empathy.

You just get me and what I'm going through. Now that I have children of my own, I feel like I understand you better, too.

Why you were always quick to buy new clothes for my sister and me, but rarely splurged on yourself.

Why you could give your all everyday—as long as you got 30 minutes to work out or have some peace.

Why you and Dad made Saturday date nights a “must do," not a “should do."

Why your #mombrain would cause you to say things like, “Let's lay out the pillows" when you really meant towels. (I can guess what you wish you were doing at the time.)

Why you seemed to hurt just as much as I did when another kid was mean.

Why you prioritized having fun together and making us laugh, even if it was just by goofily kicking your leg out at the grocery store because you “felt like it."

Now I'm that person.

For some, I hear the realization of “ I'm turning into my mother" is shocking and slightly terrifying. For me, it's a clear sign I'm on the right track.

I've always (really, even during those teenage years!) known I was lucky to have you as a mom—because that isn't all you are to me. You're my first and best friend, too.

Love always,

Your daughter

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My first baby and I were alone in our Brooklyn apartment during a particularly cold spring with yet another day of no plans. My husband was back at work after a mere three weeks of parental leave (what a joke!) and all my friends were busy with their childless lives—which kept them too busy to stop by or check in (making me, at times, feel jealous).

It was another day in which I would wait for baby to fall asleep for nap number one so I could shower and get ready to attempt to get out of the house together to do something, anything really, so I wouldn't feel the walls of the apartment close in on me by the time the second nap rolled around. I would pack all the diapers and toys and pacifiers and pump and bottles into a ginormous stroller that was already too heavy to push without a baby in it .

Then I would spend so much time figuring out where we could go with said stroller, because I wanted to avoid places with steps or narrow doors (I couldn't lift the stroller by myself and I was too embarrassed to ask strangers for help—also hi, New Yorkers, please help new moms when you see them huffing and puffing up the subway stairs, okay?). Then I would obsess about the weather, was it too cold to bring the baby out? And by the time I thought I had our adventure planned, the baby would wake up, I would still be in my PJs and it was time to pump yet again.

Slowly, but surely, and mostly thanks to sleep deprivation and isolation, I began to detest this whole new mom life. I've always been a social butterfly. I moved to New York because I craved that non-stop energy the city has and in the years before having my baby I amassed new friends I made through my daily adventures. I would never stop. I would walk everywhere just to take in the scenery and was always on the move.

Now I had this ball and chain attached to me, I thought, that didn't even allow me to make it out of the door to walk the dog. This sucks, I would think regularly, followed by maybe I'm not meant to be a mom after all.


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Becoming a mother has been life-changing. It's been hard, tiring, gratifying, beautiful, challenging, scary and a thousand other things that only a parent would ever understand.

It is these life-changing experiences that have inspired me to draw my everyday life as a stay at home mom. Whether it's the mundane tasks like doing laundry or the exciting moments of James', my baby boy's, first steps, I want to put it down on paper so that I can better cherish these fleeting moments that are often overlooked.

Being a stay-at-home-mom can be incredibly lonely. I like to think that by drawing life's simple moments, I can connect with other mothers and help them feel less alone. By doing this, I feel less alone, too. It's a win-win situation and I have been able to connect with many lovely parents and fellow parent-illustrators through my Instagram account.

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