I Don't Deserve To Be Celebrated on Mother's Day
Hey all! Sorry it's been so long since I've actually written something that's not a DIY or a giveaway or pictures of my cute kid. To say things have been insane is an understatement.
Coming to terms with the fact that I will be doing the same thing over and over for 18+ years, took me a while. I've always had a desire to be a stay-at-home-mom, but I didn't realize the mental game you play with yourself on the daily.
Laundry is daily, vacuuming is daily, at least two loads of dishes is daily, feeding your child while remembering to feed yourself and attempt to have meals for your working husband is DAILY. I can't remember the last day that I genuinely had a "break". I get to escape for a few hours, which, don't get me wrong, is GREAT. As soon as you come home though, it's back to the same 'ol same 'ol.
I've become best friends with someone named Sticky Note, and it's really been life giving. He is all over my bathroom mirror, refrigerator, and wherever else is impossible to miss his neon colors. He helps me remember bills, to-do's, shopping lists, and even write notes and leave them on people's cars who need to learn how to park. It's been a great relationship, and I'm excited to see where it goes!
Well, that was random. Anyways...
I don't know how to slow down or sit back and enjoy "the little things". I'm constantly looking for a breath of fresh air, but never finding it. I am at the will of my calendar where I schedule things in advance, but become completely stressed out the night before. I am absolutely the type of person who would rather sit home and organize, then face the public for more than an hour. Some of you may be shaking your heads in disbelief of this notion, coming from someone as opinionated and...well, high-volumed as I am. I genuinely become exhausted with plans, because I know what it takes to do something with another human.
7am, we wake up and I start getting breakfast ready. The faster the better, because my daughter received the hangry gene from my husband. 8/8:30, I assume my daughter has had enough as she begins tossing all of her unwanted food all over the floor. Promptly after, a giant shit ensues, and I have to tackle my daughter who thinks that diaper changes are the end to independence as she knows it. Usually around 9am, I've successfully dressed my child and am in deep contemplation about what the heck I'm going to wear. Seriously though. Deciding between looking good or not giving a sh*t is really exhausting.
9:30/10am, I'm hoping to be out and about, doing something to get us both out of the house before we're in it for the remainder of the day. I almost always go get coffee where I work, say hi to my hubs and the coffee shop fam, and then run as many errands as I possibly can before 11:30 when my daughter is most DEFINITELY ready for lunch.
I come home, feed my kid until she starts throwing things on said floor, and then it's nap time. IF I MISS NAP TIME, MY DAY IS RUINED. This is not a drill.
If I happen to make it home in time, she will sleep for 2-3 hours, and then I can get things done. If she does NOT make it home in time, we're looking at a solid hour, and then she's up. When she's up, we have a few hours before I need to start making dinner for the 3 of us(with the dishes that I used for breakfast and lunch), and then 7pm, she goes to bed and I'm chained to the house.
Guys, this is my life. I avoid responding to text messages or phone calls, because I put genuine mental effort into what I'm going to say. Social media? It's my way of checking out for a few seconds before diving back into reality.
I really don't know how to learn to accept this as my normal, and I continue to fight that idea. I work 2 days a week(for the most part), but immediately swing back into the motions as soon as I walk through my door. I miss going out past 7. I miss not having to plan my day around my baby's nap. Yes, I know things will change, and I'm going to miss every stage as it fades. It's just really damn hard.
As Mother's Day approaches, I can honestly say I'm not sure that I deserve to be celebrated. I can definitely light a candle in celebration of keeping my child alive and hopefully remembering to eat 3 meals a day. Today, however, I do not feel like a good mom. I feel kind of guilty for not embracing motherhood, or for the fact that I was responding to a text from last week as my child tripped and smacked her sweet forehead on the wall. I still feel like I have absolutely NO idea what the hell I'm doing, and definitely still question God's intention for placing the responsibility of being a parent in my hands.
I have no choice but to continue, because I can't just give my 2 weeks notice and do something else. This is a full time job that I will be doing to the unforeseeable future.