Honestly? It’s amazing and wonderful and exactly what I always wanted to do. I’m right there for everything, every little first milestone, the big ones like first step, first word, but the big ones took, like the first time Jess changed a diaper by herself, the first time Sam worked up the courage to jump off the porch onto the grass. My daughter’s classmates tell her they wish I was their mom, because she brings homemade cookies and muffins in for lunch. My son loves going for a nap, because it’s never meant anything other than snuggles with me, and drifting off to sleep. I teach them my values, my quirky little ways of looking at life. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything, and if, for the rest of my life, I do just this, create a home and raise my children to adulthood, then I’ll be a very happy woman.
But it’s also really, really hard. It’s lonely, it takes so much more patience than I have sometimes to parent with love and affection and care. Last night, I actually found myself wishing I had a roommate, just another adult around, someone for the kids to interact with, someone for me to chat with about their day. I crave adult contact, I crave conversation that’s not about getting someone a drink or why I’ve already asked twenty two times (I counted) for you to put on your pajamas. I grow weary of cleaning and picking out clothes and changing diapers and nursing. I love my children, I love my life, but sometimes I really need to get away for just a bit. Just a teeny tiny bit. More than that, I’d rather just have someone else be here with me. Another adult.
I have a wonderful husband who works so very hard at his job. And he’s diabetic, and that requires a lot of time in the gym. And I do my best to not complain and to support and encourage that. But when he wants more than that – when he wants to go out with his friends a couple of times a month – it just pushes me over the edge. Am I a terrible person? I feel selfish and guilty and mostly, just angry. Because what I really want isn’t a break from the kids, it’s having my buddy back. It’s having an extra pair of hands around, to help with the chores and childcare. It’s having someone who looks at me and sees me, not just Mommy. When days go by, and I don’t have that, I just get angry. And nobody wins when I’m angry – not me, not Marc, and certainly not the kids, who haven’t done anything to deserve a grumpy Mommy. So I’ll pour another cup of coffee, glue a smile on my face, and do my best to get thru the morning with sunshiney happiness.
I really do have so much to be happy about, so much to be grateful for. I’ll work harder on remembering that.
Recent Comments