Ever have those days when you’d like to quit and turn in your two-week notice from motherhood? I’ve recently had many a days like that. The type of days where patience has been tried and failed. No calming, or deep breathing yoga pose is going to make you feel better. The routine just isn’t working. Can amazon prime just send me wine already? =)
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| Living on barely any sleep but trying to keep going. |
The crack of dawn is just upon us, and on the monitor, I hear my little one screaming. I’m not ready to wake up, or move from my warm bed because I have a million aches through my bones from lifting and taking care of two babies constantly. But I do. Because his tiny body needs me. All of me. To hold and comfort him. To nurse him. So we wake (me and my two babies) and start our day. Diaper changes, nursery rhyme singing during meals, tea parties, lego building, the whining and crying, the tantrums, the food being spilled, the boo-boos, the hugs, the cuddles, and the I love yous. Along with it, my exhaustion, the redundancy of the routine, the frustration, and the watching of the clock to countdown to naptime or when the garage opens and daddy is home. Oh, the relief. #canigetanamen
And then there is this giant pressure of doing parenting right. Am I a good mother? Am I raising 2 kind, intelligent, caring, loving people? Am I doing enough? Is there childhood being fulfilled with good memories? Am I a good wife?
Because I see things you don’t.
That time I had to put my screaming infant down, and close the door, and go into another room to pull it together. Or that god awful moment when I had lost my sanity, and scolded my 2 year old for spilling milk as she was eating cereal. Because Paw Patrol, Sofia the First, and the Ipad are my babysitters some days so I can have a moment to decompress or eat something or tackle my giant, forever growing to do list. Or fold the mound of laundry that haunts my living room sometimes. Or when I get jealous of my husband’s life, and get upset at his “freedom” and why he’ll never understand my situation. I see the days that I sign off mom duty the minute he steps through the door, even though he was up all night and had meetings all day, and could also use a break.
I always wonder if going through this season is the only way to learn. Is there a better way to do this? And then my conscience kicks in and I look down and see my two babies in my lap. Holy hell. Being a mama bear isn’t a walk in the park. It’s T O U G H. Bordering on near impossible some days.
It requires so much of you. But we never quit, because we have to keep going. We are MAMAS. We just gotta keep going.
In the end, it never matters if wine o’ clock came at 10 AM for you one day. Or if our sanity was pushed to edge. Or if our hair was washed in the last 72 hours. Or if the laundry got folded and the dishes got washed. The important things are our hugs and snuggles. Our touch to heal and soothe them. Our time is important. To sing little songs that we make up on a whim to make them smile and giggle. To have tickle fights til’ our stomachs and cheeks hurt. To have hide-and-seek sessions all around the house. To have dance parties to Taylor Swift. Or Frozen. Same difference. Don’t act like you don’t have “Let It Go” memorized.
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| Going to be my new motto which I picked up from my daughter’s current favorite movie! =P |
Our love for our babies is something else. It’s fierce. Through all the grueling, tough times, we love them something fierce. So. Much. Love.
Think of these moments as a win and that that is ENOUGH. You are doing an amazing job mama. And YOU are more than enough. Don’t let your never ending, growing to-do list, or the feeling of never being organized, your dirty car, unanswered texts/emails, or your 892537 cup of coffee define you. Because they don’t. Don’t let the opinions of others bring you down. And definitely don’t compare yourself to others. We are warriors. All that you do COUNTS. Even if it goes unseen or unnoticed at that 2 am nursing session when you can barely keep your eyes open. It all counts even when we think it doesn’t. Because those little ones need us. And we do it for them. So let’s keep going mamas. I know we may need a glass of wine, or two. But let’s just keep going.
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| The holding of the hands. Oh man. I can’t even. |
Love,
Alfa