3 Ways Princeton Prepared Me for Motherhood
I am my best comparison
I attended Princeton during the era of grade deflation. This meant that no matter how well you think you did in a class, your grade was based on that of your peers. A certain percentage of students were allotted an “A”, no matter if 100% of turned-in material was “A” quality. So if everyone began acing papers in your small seminar class, the bottom percentage of those A’s were given B’s and C’s in order to proportion out the grades.
Thankfully, Princeton no longer has grade deflation, but during my time there, I and my peers dealt with this unnecessary stress. Learning for the sake of learning often took a backseat. Creatively expressing one’s own thoughts and ideas, often shadowed the thought of how other students were creatively expressing theirs too. You see, competition reigned supreme. Knowing that one’s grade was literally dependent on the performance of a peer, often drove many insane.
After one year at Princeton, I made the conscious decision to do my best and to leave the rest to God. For the next three years, I forced myself to compare myself against myself.
My motto became “You just do you... I’ma do me.”
In motherhood, it’s easy for many to compare themselves to others when it comes to parenting.
Some moms make their kids meals from scratch every day; some are super organized and have weekly toy rotations; some have detailed curriculums and homeschool like Harvard professors; some dress their kid to the nine; and some have sleep-trained and potty-trained their child by the age of 2.
I personally don’t like arts and crafts. I feel stressed thinking of following strict times to do things. I prefer to stay home all day and do home activities (this quarantine was an easy adjustment). But do you know what I do love? I love making vegan and gluten-free desserts for our son. I love the idea of planning out the next set of board books to order from Amazon. I love imagining which parts of the book I think my son will love. I love taking him on walks outside and pointing to the trees and butterflies. I love presenting my son with classic toys made from wood and seeing him explore different ways to play with that same toy over the weeks and months.
Princeton taught me to celebrate and learn from the strengths in others without feeling threatened…because living in a state of constant comparison can easily drive anyone crazy.
2. Nothing usually goes according to plan.
And I mean nothing. A few months ago, when I was much earlier in my 2nd pregnancy, I made plans on taking my son out for an activity and then going to two grocery stores before heading home for lunch. Sounds simple enough, right? After the first stop to the grocery store, I realized that I was becoming faint-like and needed to eat something ASAP. I drove to Whole Foods, which was nearby, and decided to grab a vegan cookie and some chicken (during pregnancy I find that I have to eat meat, otherwise my nausea gets really bad, very quickly). I grabbed my son’s stroller, put him in, and headed straight to the hot food bar.
After grabbing my items and checking out, I couldn’t wait any longer. So I took out my vegan cookie and began chowing away on its sweet goodness while navigating the stroller with my other hand on the way to the car. Unknowingly, when I reached the curb of the sidewalk outside the store, my hot barbecue sauce (you know, for my chicken) poured out of the stroller’s cup holder and onto my son’s pants and down his leg. He was sticky all over.
I made a u-turn, went back inside, finished my cookie of course, and headed straight to the restroom that was some distance away. I somehow cleaned up my son inside the small cramped restroom (with the little strength I had—hello 1st trimester) and then thoroughly cleaned off the stroller, while keeping my ever-wandering child from entering into other people’s restroom stalls.
I kept hearing my roaring stomach and felt extreme fatigue setting in. Finally, we made it back to the car (nevermind needing more barbecue sauce), but upon reaching the car door, I realized that I didn’t have my keys. The hot October sun didn’t make things better. I was becoming weaker by the second.
Retracing my steps through my mind’s eye, I realized that I may have accidentally thrown away my keys when grabbing several napkins to clean off my son and stroller.
At this point, any dwelling on the recently occurred events would’ve led to a breakdown. So I didn’t dwell. I couldn’t. I simply grabbed my stroller once more and headed back inside.
I headed straight to the restroom to make sure my keys weren’t there and realizing that they weren’t, I headed directly in the direction of the manager and explained to him that I needed to do a thorough search of a particular trash-bin. I didn’t have time for judgment. I just needed to get back to the car, eat my chicken, and get home. Thankfully, my “I’m about business” stance dissolved upon hearing that a stranger had actually found my keys and turned them in already. A “Praise the Lord” resounded from my lips, and my son and I were off to the car.
A few minutes later, after ferociously consuming some baked chicken in the driver’s seat, nausea and fatigue set in even further. I knew that I was going to throw up at any moment’s notice (after this, it would take weeks before I could consume chicken again). My son’s cries in the back, as it was way past his nap, didn’t help. Let’s just say, I barely made it home.
Plans? Every mother knows that any day can go in a multitude of directions. From poop explosions to toddler meltdowns, to unexpected messes, to dinner plans suddenly looking like a multitude of “healthy” snacks mashed together, to “I’m going to get an hour’s worth of work done since the baby is asleep” suddenly being disrupted by a shorter than usual nap from your bundle of joy.
Princeton taught me to do the best I can with what I have. In college, sometimes I had only one hour to write a five-page paper. And you know what? I found a way. Sometimes I only had 20 minutes to send a professor an email, run to the dining hall for a quick meal, and download that day’s precept readings. Instead of dwelling on less than ideal circumstances, I learned in college to literally make the best with what I had.
3. You gotta laugh at your mistakes and refuse to place your identity in them
During my Sophomore year, I took Molecular Biology. My friends and I met faithfully in our study groups, shared excellent outlines, stayed on top of our readings, and visited office hours. Leading up to my midterm, which was 20% of my final grade, I felt confident.
On the morning of my exam, I even got dressed up. This was the first midterm in which I felt so sure of acing the exam, in light of grade deflation. When the midterm was over, I gathered my belongings and caught up with some of my study partners to discuss our thoughts on the exam. Very quickly, I discovered that there were a few questions discussed in conversation that I couldn’t recall. Within minutes, I realized why.
I hadn’t completed the very back page of the exam.
I couldn’t believe it. All the hours of studying, memorizing, outlining, office hours. I knew the material like the back of my hand. I emailed my professor and explained to her my situation. After meeting with her in person and making numerous concessions to retake the exam, I was shut down. All the questions that I didn’t answer would be counted against me.
Talk about a major mistake.
I went back to my dorm room and fell to my knees. The Lord listened to my cries and comforted me in a way that only He could. While I felt that this was a HUGE deal, the Lord gently comforted me and let me know that it actually wasn’t. In light of eternity, this was actually pretty small. Although my grade wouldn’t truly reflect my knowledge of the material, it didn’ change the fact that I still possessed that knowledge.
I learned two things that day. 1) Sometimes you just need to laugh at your mistakes and 2) refuse to identify yourself by them.
Just because you may have forgotten to change your child’s diaper in a timely manner and now he/she has a diaper rash...doesn’t make you a “bad mom.”
Just because your child is regressing and is now wetting the bed…doesn’t mean that it’s your fault.
Just because your house is a mess, you haven’t shaved, and you’re finding joy in having to poop because that’s your only excuse and time to be alone...doesn’t mean that you’re failing in life.
And just because you let your child stay up way too late and now he or she is off schedule…doesn’t mean that you’re irresponsible.
Sometimes, you just need to laugh! Perfection is overrated and is never a measure of your worth, gifting, or progress. The goal is to look more like Christ each and everyday…not a Stepford wife.