Parenthood, and Brandi Carlile’s “The Mother”
By: Thomas Jenkins
Tags: Writing, Parenthood, Children, Music, Life

Parenthood, and Brandi Carlile’s “The Mother”

Brandi Carlile is a fantastic singer and writer. Her music, especially on her latest album, By The Way, I Forgive You, is always pensive, moving, and unique. There are songs of hers that I could write about for hours on end, but the one that sticks with me the most is “The Mother.” As a parent, I’ve found that this one song summarizes so much of what I struggle to put into words myself.

The best way to describe parenthood, I’ve found, is that it completely changes you. I feel like a fundamentally different person than I was before my child was born, almost as if someone reached inside me and started rearranging my brain cells. And if I could somehow put everything I’ve experienced into a song, it would be something like “The Mother.”

The whole song is beautiful, but there are a few lines I want to highlight in this post.

“Welcome to the end of being alone inside your mind,” Carlile sings at the beginning of the song. “You’re tethered to another and you’re worried all the time.” The loss of time to think and the arrival of constant worrying are two very real parts of parenthood. My mornings and evenings are much busier than they used to be, and I know I spend much less time reading, writing, or just quietly thinking than I did before. And being a parent means I’m always at least a little worried (even if it’s at the back of my mind) about my baby’s safety.

A few lines later, Carlile sings, “The New York City streets are as busy as they always used to be, but I am the mother of Evangeline.” These words are equally powerful. Having a child usually means giving up a lot of yourself. It means sacrificing things you love for another person. And even though the lack of time alone is considerable, the loss of energy may be even more notable. But even though it’s a sacrifice, it’s one well worth making.

“The first things that she took from me were selfishness and sleep. She broke a thousand heirlooms I was never meant to keep. She filled my life with color, cancelled plans, and trashed my car. But none of that was ever who we are.” These lines are some of my favorite in the whole song. Like other verses, they sum up so much of parenthood in just a few syllables. I’ve lost many hours of sleep since my baby was born. Adjusting to this new reality, and constantly caring for another person, has forcefully cut a lot of selfishness out of my life.

The last few words in that line, “none of that was ever who we are,” reminds me that the things I’ve given up because of parenthood — a large chunk of my free time, or more sleep on weekends — never defined me. If they ever did, then I needed that slap in the face that parenthood brought. I don’t think I determined my happiness by how much free time I had in my life before the baby. At the very least, I know I didn’t consciously. But caring for a child has showed me how foolish and empty that mindset is. Life is so much more than what we do for ourselves.

“They’ve still got their morning paper and their coffee and their time. They still enjoy their evenings with the skeptics and their wine. But all the wonders I have seen I will see a second time. From inside of the ages through your eyes.” All the things that parenthood takes away pale in comparison to what it gives. Even simple journeys like taking the baby on a walk, to the park, or to meet new family members, give me so much joy. I can remember what it was like to live without my baby, but I don’t have any desire to go back to that time. And while I don’t want to rush the days when he’s small and truly a baby I can hold in my arms, I know it will also be an amazing experience to watch him grow up each year.

“So they can keep their treasure and their ties to the machine. Cause I am the mother of Evangeline.” God has blessed my wife and I with a beautiful, happy baby boy. Everything else in both of our lives seems so small stacked up next to that fact. Life is much more difficult than it used to be; life has much less sleep than it used to. But it’s also so much more.

I don’t meant to glamorize parenthood. It’s by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. There are nights when I’ve felt stretched beyond my abilities, thrust into a role I had no idea how to play. And to be perfectly clear, I don’t think I’m anything close to an expert. A large part of parenthood is fumbling through everything as well as one can. That’s how I feel many days. I’m trying my best, but I know I’m very far from perfect.

I also don’t want to make this sound like I’m perfectly adjusted or completely selfless now. Sometimes, like anyone else, I need to remind myself how blessed I am. There are plenty of days or nights that I’ve been frustrated, or selfishly wished that I had more time to myself. Part of why I’m writing this post is to remind myself how much I have been given. That even in the moments when being a parent is most difficult, God has blessed me immeasurably.

Ultimately, I think what I mean to say is this — being a parent has also been the most wonderful experience of my life. It’s changed my perspective on so much and shaped me in ways I never could have anticipated. I love every second I spend with my son (even if there have been many during which my body cried out for sleep). And I think “The Mother” might be the best, most pure distillation of this experience. There are other great songs as well (“Dear Theodosia” from Hamilton, for example), but this one is my favorite.

Parenthood is messy, anxious, and exhausting. It’s also wonderful, life-changing, and joyful. I’m so thankful that God blessed me with this gift and this song is the perfect way to explain so much of it.