Post Reply Being something else than a parent?
Parent
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35 / F / windurst
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Posted 1/10/15
So it will be nearly a year that my baby boy is in this world.
Sometimes I feel like I'm only a mother...
Not that I'm not happy about it, I love my baby more than everything~!
But I guess it's a normal thing to have less time for yourself,becoming a parent.
I kinda am losing who I am, like if I was nothing else but a 'mom' ^_^;;

Have you felt something similar becoming a mom or a dad? ^_^
Creator
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33 / M / Baltimore, MD
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Posted 1/13/15
I've felt that way sometimes. I'm sure it's different for Moms sometimes than for Dads, but being a parent is kind of one of those real defining features in my life.

That said, while I don't have a lot of time for much else when I'm home, especially with my little ones being so little (our twins are almost 6 months old), I find myself defined also by my faith & my job. I'm a parent, a Christian, & an engineer.

What do you mean, though, by losing who you are? For me, being a parent has given me some opportunities to share who I am with impressionable small people Given me opportunities to share video games for the first time to my kids was cool. Introducing them to some kiddy anime has been fun. Introducing them to the stuff I like has been great. There's more to you, I'm sure, than just your parenting. What else do you do? I know free time is at premium when they're little...
Parent
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40 / M / Earth
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Posted 1/19/15
I think every parent feels that way sometimes, especially when the children are still young. But I found that once they have grown a bit (my boys are seven and nine) you can share many things with them and also find time for yourself.
Parent
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Posted 5/5/15
Whenever I get that "just a stay at home dad" feeling, I like to read this poem. It may be mildly sexist, but it conveys the significance of parenting better than anything else I've read.

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle Is The Hand That Rules The World
- Poem by William Ross Wallace

Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow-
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky-
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
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