Hey you... yes you. The mom reading this.
You ever have "those days" ?
Those days you secretly wish your husband would call you and tell you to get out of your pjs because your sister-wife will be over in 10 min. To help you clean the house, make the dinner, and answer all your messages...
Those days you just don't want to practice patience, or deep breathing, or routine. You know... When It's still dark out, yet he is ready to start his day so You start yours, whether Your prepared or not. Because he needs you in this partnership. Not just part of you, but EVERY part of you. And you begin with The diaper changes, and the morning wake ups and farting noises from the dog, and the whining, and the tantrums, the fighting and the eating breakfast sprawled out on the kitchen floor, and the kisses, and the I love you's, And the reminders, The frustration. The clean-up, The repetition, The watching of the clock, And the worries. Do You measure up? Can You actually raise, six smart, loving, contributing, children. The pressure sits heavy on your chest...
Looking at ourselves, we always see things you don't...
I see the time I lost all control with my 8 year old for taking an entire basket of clean folded laundry and spreading it out across his floor minutes after I folded it... I yelled at him and told him he was being a brat and I was sick of taking care of their crap.
Or the time I relied on Blues clues to babysit my daughter so I could do my hair, or have a coffee uninterrupted in the kitchen with friends.
Or the time I made my kids hang outside my bedroom with my door shut and locked so I could regain a moment of sanity and maturity while I gave myself a moms "time out".
Or the time I dismissed playing monopoly with them because I had dishes to do, a floor to sweep, and lunches to pack...
OR the time I gave my 17 year old daughter a rental contract because I realized I couldn't parent her anymore and I threw a temper tantrum .
Or the times I snap at Cole because he doesn't understand why I parent the way I do and why there is junk scattered through every inch of the house when he gets off work...
Or the pressure I sometimes feel because I take on too much...
Or the 13738 compartments I am sorting through in my brain on a daily basis.
I see the times I check out from my life forcing Cole to take on daddy duty from the minute he steps in the door until the minute he puts the kids to bed.
Am I alone in wondering if failing is the only way to learn? Am I doing enough? Are we doing this thing right?
Then I remember. Being a mom, is hard. Some days, it's just really fucking hard.
It requires more strength than you could ever lift in a weight room over a lifespan.
Because love and life are heavy. And no matter how hard or heavy those moments are we keep going don't we.
We juggle as many balls as we can while standing on one foot with a tea cup on our head, nursing our baby in one arm while holding on tight to our coffee with the other and we keep going. Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how long we stayed in our week old pajamas . Or if we lost our temper. Or drank a glass of wine at 3 pm. Or clung to the end of our rope until Daddy got home or our friends showed up with the nectar from the gods (coffee for those who are oblivious to the need for my coffee) and talked us down from the cliff that we moms tend to teeter on...
What matters is our touch.
Our ability to listen
And our presence.
What matters is taking a second to sing the Silly songs with Larry and the giggles while playing trains and the dancing to T-swift and the bear hugs when frustration sets in and they can't tell you why. Even if you're on your 2nd can of dry shampoo for the week.
Man, we love our babies fierce.
Let those moments be your reminder that you ARE enough, You ARE doing a good job. And your child loves you more than you will ever know. All of your work counts. Even the unseen at 2 in the morning, Your to-do list, your lack of organization, your disorientation of time...those things don't define you, nor does the opinion of others. Just keep going. Let's keep going.