Can I be honest? Being someone’s mother … it sucks.
Alright, alright, alright.
Now that I have your attention.
No, it doesn’t suck.
Not even a little bit. Well, maybe a little bit, but only sometimes. You know it’s true. If you are a parent, you know that every now and again, your role is just freaking HARD.
#1. I’m hardly ever alone, for one thing. And when I am, it’s a race to jam-pack as much as I can into those few precious hours.
Due to #1, my house is a constant mess. I don’t know why I bother picking anything up at all, ever.
Also due to #1, I’m pretty sure I’m going deaf with all the noise~noise~noise~noise~noise. I need a good set of headphones.
Again, thank you #1 … My chiropractor is quickly becoming my best friend. Monkey is heavy. And he loves to be held. I love it, I do. Girlfriend liked Husband to hold her. So I’ll hold Mr. Monkey Man as long as he’ll let me. But man. My back. My neck. Especially during tantrums. Which happen at least 3 times a day. Over things like the TV remote and phone. I’m certain that unless I become the Queen of Sheba, Kappy is going to get to know me real well.
My kids are always hungry. So I can’t really think of a time when I’m not in the kitchen preparing food and then cleaning everything up. Or preparing food (and then cleaning it up) to take somewhere with us for when they next say they’re hungry.
And, they keep growing (aforementioned hunger) so I’m in a never-ending cycle of buying clothes, socks, and shoes. Even so, Girlfriend is forever expressing her horror over a lack of suitable clothing. And, we can lately never find the shoes, because Monkey loves shoes! So he’s into the shoe rack whenever possible, offering shoes, throwing shoes, hiding shoes. At least he doesn’t throw them in the garbage anymore (which is why the garbage is currently stationed in the first floor bathroom with the door shut – shoes are too expensive and necessary – we’re not taking chances).
No one ever talks about this one and that is, cleaning dirty bodies in the bath tub is quite the work out and no picnic by any means. I am perplexed as to how I don’t have arms of steel, people. And getting them out is just as taxing because once they’re actually in the bath, they realize warm water and bubbles are glorious and so is that plastic bowl good enough for filling up and pouring out over and over again! Stuff like this nonsense below doesn’t help anyone, thank you very much. Are there people out there who actually do this?!
*important side note: now that Girlfriend is 8, bath time is waaaaaaay less dramatic than it used to be (and we’re slowly getting there to showers!). It used to be Oscar-worthy with, basically in this order: screaming, crying, ranting and raving, joyful singing and hoots of laughter along with pouring, mixing, splashing, protests about hair washing and soap rinsing, and finally threats if a certain small child did not get her cute little tush out of the empty bath by the time mommy counted to 3. Monkey does not pose nearly the problems his sister presented with. Instead, he’s excited to get in the tub, more excited to splash every drop of water out of the tub, and downright exuberant to get out, soaking wet, to attempt running through the entire upstairs in his adorable nakedness while he squeals gleefully.
And then there’s the laundry. I have hired and fired too many laundry fairies to mention. It’s hard to find good help.
I’m becoming a tea addict … due to, you guessed it … #1. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge fan of tea. I have an assortment of teas in a lovely basket, ranging from the basics like Chamomile Lavender to the detox teas such as Roasted Dandelion Root or Hibiscus, take your pick, to the hardcore Wellness Mama tea that I ordered online in a desperate moment. My kids know not to mess with Tea Time for Mama which occurs, without fail, ever afternoon. Sometimes I go nuts and have two cups.
I can’t recall the last time I really slept soundly – you know, the to-do list I mentioned earlier. That thing tabulates 24/7 in my brain. Nor can I remember the last time I made it more than 4 or 5 days without having to fill up on gas. I don’t know when we last had one full week where we weren’t expected to be somewhere do something, be it to get to an appointment or an event or a scheduled thing like Brownies or Lego League. (And by choice, we’re not crazy-busy people, either! I can’t even imagine if my kids were involved in every activity offering there was! No! Just, no!)
Motherhood is just a whirlwind.
There are occasional moments when I wonder why I ever thought having kids was a good idea.
But then I remember …
The family dinners.
My children. Their mom. Me.
They were whispers in my heart well before they were my reality.
I grew my children for 9 months inside my body. We communicated with each other before they spoke to anyone else. I did everything I could to make sure they were born as healthy and loved as possible. And they both were born absolutely perfect.
What was that bit about motherhood sucking?
Oh, right. It doesn’t.
It just feels like it does every now and again.
Because frankly, what would I be doing in all that free time without my kids?
Complaining about how busy I am and how pointless it all seems, more than likely.
The reality is, I’m extremely lucky to be experiencing motherhood at all.
I’ll drink it up, slowly but surely.