Sometimes I want to escape.
Like sometimes I sit in my home and I totally want to lock myself up in my room and run away to a beach in Fiji and watch the sunset and sip a Pina Colada out of a pineapple. Actually, I think I just want the house to be chill and clean and quiet where I could actually hear what is on Hulu and then I’d be happier. Or calmer.
I have no idea what makes motherhood and life have those days that make me want to just quit and leave. It’s not like I would ever leave. But, man oh man, sometimes I just get to the point where I have had enough. It’s so hard to parent. I know that we all kind of know that it’s hard, but then when you’re in the middle of deciding who actually should get the last juice box and you’re listening to angry impassioned pleas from both sides that will result in a meltdown and the start of World War 3 while another child decides it’s the perfect time to tell you why you’re a horrible mom for taking away internet rights and there is something burning on the stove – well – even though supermom could probably do it – I simply cannot some times.
Instead of Fiji I am sitting in my room, in the dark, behind the door that I locked and I am writing. And I am writing because I think that sometimes when we are in this place of feeling totally overwhelmed and helpless as a mom that it can feel so lonely and aggravating and just plain enough. Like totally enough.
How in the world can it be that hard?
Like how can dealing with kids make me at my wit’s end? How can all the education I have make me feel like I don’t know a thing? Why can I not simply embrace the noise and the chaos? Why can’t I be that super cool mom who brushes off the bad days as normal? Or who doesn’t have the bad days.
But sometimes I just cannot cannot. And because of that some nights to keep myself sane and to be a good mom I have to go into my room, in the dark, just like now and escape.
It’s my oxygen, I guess.
If I cannot breathe, then I cannot mother.
And they need me to mother.
They need me to take that breath, to gather my resolve, to hang on.
We don’t give up, us moms. Even when our arms are tired and our wits at their ends.
We hang on.
I think that’s what we do as moms. We get to these places of tears falling while we feel like failures and we give ourselves this time out moments and we decide to grade ourselves with big fat failures. We think that we’re the only moms who have had enough or have kids who go crazy and buck all the rules (And when they all do like tonight – holy moly). But we don’t give up.
Do you know that?
You don’t give up.
You learn and bend and don’t quit.
It doesn’t mean that you don’t have moments of tears and hiding in your room. It doesn’t mean that sometimes you feel like a failure. It just means that you are totally human and normal. Yes, normal. And sometimes keeping going means being tough and fighting and sometimes it means five minutes in your room with tears falling.
So sweet mom.
Hang on. Even if you feel like you’ve had too much or the kitchen is crazy or the preteen rebelling because you took away computer time. Even if tonight is nuts and you just need a break and the laundry is overflowing. Even if you can tell me every place where you messed up.
Because, because, because, and I whisper this to you.
You are not the only mom with tears sometimes.
Everybody has these moments.
We all do.
And what matters is you. You giving, you trying, you hiding in the dark for just a bit, and you — brushing off the discouragement, the fears, and you picking up the dishcloth, wiping the counters, packing lunches, tucking covers, turning off lights and trying again.
You matter so deeply, so much, so much – especially in these moments.
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