This was my third Mother's Day as an actual mother myself (forth if you count the year I was pregnant with Piper...which I totally count), and it was kind of a mixed bag this time around. Don't get me wrong- it was a lovely day, filled with lovely people, and lovely things. But I've been struggling recently with parts of motherhood, and parenthood (they're related, yet slightly different) and p.s. I'm pregnant, so I might be a wee bit more emotional than usual...So it was indeed a lovely day, it was just also filled with swirly thoughts that I haven't quite worked through yet.
I saw a pie-chart online last week, detailing what moms really want for Mother's Day, and though I'm pretty certain the "facts" were made up, I was still struck by the idea that the largest chunk of the pie was "The Day Off From Parenting". In all honesty, I totally agreed, but I also felt a twinge of guilt about it. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to want to spend the special day with my beloved offspring, cherishing each other, and basking in mutual gratefulness for 24 hours. But...it turns out...I'm pretty tired, and a day sans-kids, doesn't sound half bad. (plus, toddlers are pretty bad at basking. And not super good with gratefulness, either).
I struggle with this a lot- because I do feel so so so very grateful for the children I've been given. I desperately wanted each of them, and I uniquely and passionately love each of them. They are the best things to ever happen to me, (well...maybe tied with Dustin. He's kind of a stud) and I never want to take that for granted. But...we're also in a hard stage right now. The little-kid years are intense, to say the least, and this phase of child-rearing is filled with a lot of thankless tasks, exhausting duties, and seemingly endless needs.
So I'm working on reconciling the two halves of me:
The half who misses my kids tremendously when I'm away from them; and the half who maaaaaybe threatened to make Fin walk home from a restaurant last week because I just. couldn't. deal. with. the. whining.
The half who can't get over the heartbreaking cuteness of the two little blonde firecrackers who really do say and do the darnedest things; and the half who can't get over the twinges of jealousy of co-workers' happy hour festivities, or childless friends' spur of the moment vacations.
The half who wanted...who wants this life; and the half who is looking forward to getting to what's next...soon, please.
I'm sure I've written about this one hundred times, and I'll likely write one hundred more if it helps make sense of my conflicted mind and torn heart. Thanks to all of those who are wading through it with me, and who understand that I can love my people with an intensity beyond all explanation, while still holding the occasional fantasy about running away to live on an island where no one knows me as mama. Both sides are very real, and very flawed, and very...me.
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I do believe that it is a common struggle among mothers and their two halves. It doesn't change as you get older, according to my mother. I told her that I was glad that she didn't run away when we were kids. (It was a frequent threat to get us to act right).
ReplyDeleteWhen your little firecrackers are 12 or 14 and you realize how very quickly this time flew by you will want to spend every day with them, knowing it will be that soon they fly the coop. Now you are exhausted and emotional and feel differently each day which is natural. Try to have more together days though. It goes unbelievably fast.
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