Thursday, November 10, 2016

Mom's the word.

WARNING: I swear in this post. Sorry mom, dad, work, kids, people who might be offended. All f-bombs were carefully thought out and planned for this post.

Something happened after I became a mom (and stepmom.)

Aside from all the love and joy that the kids bring me. Aside from the hugs and kisses and moments that I will remember for the rest of my life... Aside from the absolute love I learned how to feel for another human being, I have learned that there is a really dark side to motherhood.

I have lost track of myself, my friends, my waistline, any hobbies I had, and my career.

Motherhood has doubled the speed of life and added about eight bajillion things to my plate. I am having a helluva time keeping up. Where I used to prioritize tasks at work, I am now prioritizing whether I can fit a bath in for my kid/s tonight or tomorrow. Or, whether I can skip lunch, cut out early, and get some groceries before picking up my kid from daycare. Or, if I can MacGyver something semi-nutritious and good for dinner with whatever's in the fridge.

My mind never stops. I am constantly thinking of the things I need to be doing. The things I should be doing. The things that I will need to do soon, and sometimes the things I want to do.

I feel like this is not just me. No, this is all of us.


Please tell me this isn't just me.

Since becoming a mom I can't stop fucking up.

That sounds harsh, and I don't need a pep talk. Please, don't tell me I'm not fucking up. Trust me when I tell you that I am fucking up and that I am doing it often. In fact, sometimes that's how I remember that I checked something off my 'to do list,' because of the epic fail I made while doing it...

From the time I wake up to the time I go to bed, I am chasing the day that will always beat me. I am trying to steal minutes for myself while the rest of the family is sleeping, or while I am pacifying the kids with bribes of treats or dreaded screen time so I can get stuff done. I am trying to multitask, and I am getting frustrated every single time I do it.

This isn't easy. Domestic bliss is by far the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

I can only imagine that I sound like a complaining shrew.  I know I do. I can't help it. It just comes out. That's another part of the new me that I am having a hard time dealing with. I didn't realize I'd be such a killjoy.

"Don't do that."

"Don't play with that."


"Stop doing that!"

"Get out of there."

"Stop fighting."




I don't even like saying no to the kids. I love them all so much that I would give them everything their little hearts desired if I knew it wouldn't make them terrible human beings. But no, this is part of it. Moms have to set boundaries and sometimes have to be a bummer.

Hey man, nobody wants to be a bummer.

I am searching for validation that I'll never get. I know that's not what we do all this for. But, damn. I need validation, because it turns out that I am not sure of anything. nope. I am not sure of a single thing. I am winging it all. So, I need validation that I am somehow winging it all in an alright way.

I need someone to notice that I'm a busy as fuck person. I need someone to tell me that I am not suffering from postpartum depression when I have a breakdown because my kid is being a jerk. I need someone to tell me that I'm not a shrew, or a nag, or a killjoy, or overbearing. I need someone to tell me that I'm not a total write off as a friend because I only text back about 40 per cent of the time. (I'm so sorry friends!) I need someone to tell me to take an hour for myself and to go to the gym, or for a walk, or do whatever I want to do just for me...

I need way more validation than I'm ever gonna get, and if you're a mom chances are you do too.

We lose ourselves in this, because it's not equal and it's not easy and we are expected to work and be homemakers, and lovers and friends. We are expected not to stay fat after having babies because that means we've let ourselves go (If Maria Kang can do it, what's your excuse? Ugh.) And we are expected to fundraise for our kids, throw them Pinterest-worthy birthday parties, join a book club, and drink wine with our girlfriends... We are expected to shatter the glass ceiling, because somehow in the day and age, men still make more money than us for the same jobs. Oh, and we are expected to get the kids a snack and some milk about ten times a day.

In all of this, where do we find time for ourselves?

If there's an answer, somebody tell me!

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