Sometimes, I don’t like being a mom.
WHEW. There, I said it.
I love my baby. I do. I wouldn’t trade her for all the pizza in NYC. Seriously, y’all. That’s LEGIT. It’s just…I don’t always love this mom job.
I don’t love the part where I’m a mother and ALSO a student and ALSO a wife and ALSO a friend and 8 other things. I constantly feel like I’m pulled in all these different directions and I wear all these different hats and doomed to live a life where I’m never good at ANY OF THEM.
I don’t love the part where my boobs are not my own. I used to have this cool “I love breastfeeding!” attitude but twelve months in? I’m not so enamored anymore. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I hate it, but I certainly don’t love it.
I don’t love that no matter what you do – work or stay at home – you probably always feel this mom guilt that you’re just not doing enough. WHAT GIVES, MOM GUILT? WHAT THE EFF GIVES?
I don’t love that my entire family lives a million (re:800) miles away and that aside from my wonderfully amazing husband, we’re pretty much just on our own most of the time.
I don’t love that these are things we CAN’T talk about as mothers, because it means we’re bad moms, or that we don’t love our children, or that we “shouldn’t have had children if we feel this way” (yes, that has been said to me) (no, I didn’t cut her)
But come on. COME ON. Tell me you’ve never in your life as a mother, had a day where you just didn’t really enjoy motherhood? And we want to talk about the gloriousness of it all in front of everyone “Oh my child is the bestest child in the world and this morning we played in a field of flowers and ate all organic fruits and veggies and we never fight and motherhood is the bee’s knees!” and we update our facebook status’ with this nonsense. And I’m guilty of this. I’m TOTALLY guilty of painting the “perfect life” picture.
And I’m not saying there aren’t days that are great and wonderful and nearly perfect. It’s just, there are also days that aren’t so perfect. Why isn’t it ok to talk about those? I’d like to think that most moms feel this way occasionally. I hope this, anyway. I wish we could all just be honest for a moment and admit that it’s not always going to be sunshine and rainbows, and that that’s ok.
Sometimes I write letters to my daughter. Usually they’re pretty personal and I don’t like to share them, but I thought I’d share this one.
You’ve been…difficult lately. And I’ve lost my patience with you a few times, and for that I’m sorry. At first I thought you were just teething. I say “just teething“ as if it’s nothing, when I realize how incredibly painful that must be. I’m sorry for that. Then you woke up yesterday and had quite the sniffles and cough. And last night you were croup-y. And then I felt like a horrible wretched mother for being so easily frustrated with your neediness and your constant desire to nurse.
You’re almost a year old and while in some ways, I feel like I still have no idea what I’m doing, in others I feel like I have always been your mother. I can hardly remember a time that you were not mine. It’s like, long before I had you, I knew that you were mine and that I was yours and that we’d meet someday and that I’d love you more than anything in the world.
But yesterday was hard. And I’m human. And I found myself not having such a great day.
Being a mother is hard. I want you to know that there will be days that I lose my patience and I’m sorry for that. And I’ll try to be patient with you when you have those days, because just like I am human, you are too.
I think that’s the lesson in this all. I’ve struggled with my ideas about attachment parenting an older child or teenager. Where are the boundaries? Are there boundaries? I’m not there yet, but I have to believe that if as an adult, I still have days where I behave like a child, it’s certainly natural for you to behave like a child when you are a child. And I’ll try to remember that, and be patient with that, and give you grace for that.
Just know I’m doing my best. And that I’ll always love you. I don’t always love everything about being a mother (or a wife, or a student or any of that) but I will always love everything about you.