I had the joy of celebrating my “30-something” birthday a few weeks ago with an early morning sweat session, courtesy of a local indoor cycling studio. Not only did I get my rear kicked by an awesome instructor, but I got to pick every song that we rode to. Every. Single. One. That meant the unsuspecting souls riding that morning were subjected to songs that spanned from the mouths of Bon Jovi and Journey to Britney Spears (pre-2007) and Whitney Houston, with a side of Taylor Swift and Eric Church to make the hour feel well rounded. Somewhere in that hour of making my legs move faster that I thought possible as “Oops!…I Did it Again” blared through the speakers, I let myself go back to a time when that song was topping the charts and I owned more than two “going out shirts.” I fondly refer to my college days as some of the best of my life, but I had no idea at the time that my days as a sorority sister were actually prepping me for motherhood in more ways than one.
Chants, Cheers, and All That Jazz
From Bid Day to Greek Week, Rush events to new member initiation, sororities have a chant and/or song for everything. Even though I may now forget a few appointments here and there (and most likely what I ate for breakfast), I can still sing every word to my pledge class song from years ago. There is no doubt in my mind that this part of sorority life prepped me for the countless hours I would spend singing to my children. It doesn’t matter if the song or rhyme is about a spider climbing a water spout, a certain neighborhood tiger reminding us to use our manners, or how a group of pups can save the day; I am willing and able to partake in whatever hand motions, dances, or silly antics ensue during and after the songs.
Attention Grabbers
Every active member in Greek Life could be found at the same place every Tuesday evening: Chapter meetings in a certain building on campus. This was our time to check in with everyone, plan the week (s) ahead, and call to order any pressing matters. My Tuesday evenings of the past are now my Sunday afternoons in the present. My “chapter” is now my family, and our meetings are usually held on our living room floor instead of a lecture hall. Rewards for finishing a chapter meeting early meant we had a head start to the nearest local hangout, but now it affords us the ability to read one more book before turning in for the night. I find myself using similar tactics with my family meetings that I did when addressing 40+ college peers. I found the secret to commanding the room with the grace of Elle Woods lies in the power of an object. In college, it was a pink Hello Kitty pen. In motherhood, it is the stuffed animal rightfully dubbed as the magical tool that allows only the holder to speak.
That pink Hello Kitty pen carried me through the good news of chapter meetings (being paired with our favorite fraternity for Greek Sing) to the not-so-high points of leading a chapter (having to raise dues to cover certain costs). The magical stuffed animal has given us each a chance to talk about the high points of our day, where we saw/showed kindness, and what we would like to do in the coming days. With an almost-six-year-old and a three-year-old, our conversations can take a turn at any minute, just like they did in the college days. Voting for a favorite shirt design for a Christmas formal has been replaced with voting for one’s favorite pet. I don’t know what it is, but there is something about a person holding an inanimate object that ultimately bestows the talking right to the beholder.
Call Me Anytime
Throughout high school and college, I took comfort in the knowledge that I could call my parents from anywhere and they would come pick me up if need be. Although I never admitted it at the time, that act of love was a saving grace on many occasions. What a comfort to know that I always had an “out” without any questions asked (for the most part). Throughout my college career, there were a few times that I found myself reminding others that they could call me at any point and I would be there as quickly as I could. When the fear of judgment and punishment is removed from a situation, we are able to see a person in need of a friend more clearly. Their outer layer is removed in your safety, and a deeper bond is formed. As a mother, I want my children to know that I am a net and a secure spot for them to land, although I may have a few more questions for them than my dear sorority sisters.
Recognize the Signs and Get a Trashcan
When you share a tiny room with another person, and that room is part of a sorority wing, which is part of a dormitory, sicknesses are bound to run up and down those hallways faster than a toga party being cleared by campus police. I realized early on to recognize those on the verge of getting sick, those who were almost cured, and those unfortunate ones smack dab in the middle of flu season with finals approaching. I learned how dangerous it can be to place that one friend who gets motion sickness in the back of a Suburban, and that trashcans next to the bed with a can of ginger ale are severely underrated. When flu season strikes, not much is different in my family’s home than those concrete dorm walls of yore. I can accurately say that watching a group of people fall ill to the same sickness gave me the experience and training to not only handle a classroom of kids in flu season, but my own children (and self) as well. Trashcans, ginger ale, saltine crackers, backup plastic bags, Clorox wipes, etc. are all staples in our home should one of us come down with something. The beauty of my “now” is that I can quarantine the sick person to another part of the house in hopes that we may be spared. Having the flu in college just meant that you were not able to participate in as many rounds of “dizzy bat” during Greek games as your organization would have liked.
Hide Your Candy, Hide Your Yogurt
I will be the first to admit it: I indulge in a few dark chocolate morsels while I clean the kitchen. The kids are brushing their teeth and usually engaged in a tickle fight with their dad while I have a few moments before the bedtime routines commence. I hide the bag in the freezer, behind some bread crumbs and homemade marinara sauce. No one knows they exist, let alone where they hide. There have been a few occasions when I thought I was caught, but I later came to realize that I’d put them in our laundry room freezer instead. Crisis averted, yes, but I still chuckle as it takes me back to the days on the sorority wing, where the “community” mindset seemed to apply to food. You learn different tactics and tricks of the trade when your favorite meals disappeared a few too many times and how crucial the tiny dorm fridge would be to you. I am no stranger to saying that something was too spicy or downright not good so that I could enjoy it myself. That is, until my youngest decided that he likes “too spicy” foods.
It’s All Greek to Me
Many of the comparisons between life in a sorority and life thus far as a parent are lighthearted and often comical. A resonating detail that draws these two parts of my life closer comes from understanding and accepting the vast range of strengths, weaknesses, personalities, and emotions. Taking 50 (and more at larger universities) girls and placing them in an organization that is expected to run smoothly on many accounts sounds absolutely ridiculous on paper. Yet when you navigate the waters together, work as a team, and respect the boundaries and the opinions of others, you meet goals, obtain success, and feel immense pride. My household is composed of four very different personalities, all of which are essential to making our family work as a unit. We grow and change together, much like the relationships I formed some 15 years ago with people with whom I lived and learned so closely.
Despite the fact that my musical tastes and extra-curricular activities may have changed drastically since my days in Greek Life, I have lessons learned and experiences tucked away that I can revisit every now and then when the situation arises. Although I have traded in old school Britney for Disney songs, I am confident that around my birthday every year, she may come out again.
