This is hard to admit to myself, let alone other people, but after a particularly trying weekend of motherhood (and JD working nights), I was actually relieved to go to work Monday morning. I got to worry about workflows and deadlines instead of poopy diapers and fussing (well, let’s be honest, there’s still some fussing in a professional environment).
L is such an easygoing kid that I sometimes feel like I’m not allowed to get stressed out sometimes. I feel guilty, like if I feel this way, how do mothers with really fussy kids do it?! But the truth is, motherhood is hard sometimes regardless of your child’s temperament. She is now 9 months and in transition from baby to toddler. She is in that frustrating place where she can express herself by yelling or pushing my hand away but not communicate to say “my teeth are bothering me” or “I’m done with my bottle.”
She has realized how much there is to discover in this world and no sooner do I set her down than her little arms and legs are in motion, aiming for something she shouldn’t have. She no longer has time for bottles or diaper changes. She’s too focused on what she could be exploring, even if it means rolling over into her own poop.
It’s beautiful and exhilarating, and although I’m not supposed to admit this, it’s also frustrating and exhausting.
Mothers aren’t supposed to talk about how hard it can be. No, we’re supposed to be busy relishing every second of parenthood and bragging about how AH-MAZING our little ones are.
I’m not supposed to tell you how relieved I was for some TV time and some peace and quiet after she went to bed early Sunday night (the house was quiet, I had sushi for dinner, and it was pretty much the best night of my life). I’m not supposed to view work as a “break.”
I’m not a perfect mother, but I am an honest one.
I don’t know how single moms do it. I don’t know how stay-at-home moms do it. I don’t even know how us working moms do it. It’s hard, yo. It will bring you to tears, for reasons good and bad.
We’re afraid to admit these things. We always seem to have to hide them in a joke or follow them up with a “but it’s so worth it!”
And it is worth it. Totally. But it doesn’t mean it isn’t hard and it doesn’t mean that sometimes you aren’t straight up frustrated. No jokes. No apologies.