I’ve debated for the last week or so whether or not to post these “confessions” of mine, but have finally decided I must not be alone in these feelings so why not. At least, I hope I’m not alone…
One night last week, while reading bedtime stories, I thought to myself “I really don’t want to read these books. I really wish I could just sit on this couch in silence, alone”. Now before people jump all over me for being ungrateful for the children I have (and yes, I’ve had comments like that before when I’ve vented about how tired I am), read on and keep a little perspective.
Moms are allowed to be tired. They’re allowed to crave time alone, whether that time is 20 minutes, 2 hours, 2 days or 2 weeks. We work hard and rarely get a day off. Even people who love their jobs get paid time off, but moms don’t. Whether you’re a stay at home mom or a work out of the home mom, you work hard… continually!
Sure, you could take the night off from cleaning up your house after you put the kids to bed, but then you’ll just be greeted by the mess bright and early the next morning.
Yeah, you could just give in to your whiny toddler for a day because you just don’t have the energy to deal with him/her/them, but you’ll pay dearly for that over the next week.
Being a mom is lonely work. I’m sometimes jealous of my working mom friends, simply because they get to interact with other adults 5 days a week. (I know, grass is always greener on the other side, right?) Yesterday our mom’s group got together for a big “playdate” type thing at a local firehouse. While it was fun to see the other kids and wave to the other moms, there really are very few opportunities for actually talking to each other. Know why? Because you’re constantly chasing after your kids, or looking around the room for them! Do you know how hard it is to have a semi-meaningful conversation, much less one that lasts longer than 60 seconds at a playdate with early childhood aged kids? It’s brutal!
Here’s another fun confession for you…. I find myself thinking a lot about how much longer it’ll be before I can go back on Weight Watchers, go back to the gym and lose this pregnancy weight, plus the 9 pounds I still had hanging around from my pregnancy with the boys. I’m excited about the arrival of my baby girl, but I’m also excited about losing this weight and shopping for new clothes. For some reason I feel like it’s wrong for me to be thinking like that at only the beginning of the 3rd trimester (starts tomorrow!).
I’m just tired. I think that’s what this boils down to. Tired; both physically and emotionally.
I look at my boys though and I’m grateful. I’m grateful I get to be their mom. I’m grateful that they’re healthy children who love life (except for when life isn’t going their way) and make us laugh on a daily basis. I’m grateful they’re so excited about the arrival of their baby sister (yesterday Jackson said he wanted to hold her, take her to the zoo to show her animals and take her to the ice cream shop). I’m grateful to feel the little kicks and punches of my baby girl. I’m grateful we have a warm house, food to eat and working cars to drive.
Because I’m grateful and I love my boys, I finished reading those books, tucked them into bed with prayers and goodnight kisses and went about my nightly duty of cleaning the house before collapsing on the couch.
I am grateful, please don’t get me wrong. I’m also just tired, like all moms are at some point, and that’s ok.