Disclosure: I would recommend reading this if only you are a mom already, no soon to be moms. I promise, its too late for you too.
I’m writing this in the midst of my breaking point. Picture this, the cat is meowing (this normally wouldn’t be a problem but we have the loudest cat sent from hell), the dog is whining because it cant eat the cat, the baby is screaming obscenities at its toy, there is pee all over the bathroom floor nowhere near the toilet, the living room looks like a tornado hit it. I have been thrown up on, pooped on, peed on, and drooled on. I’ve changed the bedding, changed their outfits twice, changed my own clothes and this is all before 2pm. I have spent half the day in the bathroom trying to get my two year old to poop in the potty. I’m still 90% sure he will poop on the floor instead. I also just realized that I never put deodorant on so the shower this morning was pointless.
I promise this is not just about complaining, but sometimes a mom needs speak out. We usually have no one to talk to on a daily basis. We can’t talk to our husbands lest they strangle us. Most friends are so busy knee deep in their own kids poo and laundry that they don’t have time. We all know how the volume on children turns up significantly when a phone is to your ear. Sometimes we just want to put our head in our hands, lock the bathroom door and just scream until the police bust in wondering who was being tortured. ME! I’m being tortured by two small humans, save me!
I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to have kids. In the same breath a mother says, “This is sucking the life out of me”, we can also say “This is the best thing I could have ever done.” Yes, these contradict each other tremendously but as Charles Dickens said, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
Not everyday is like this. Most days I get things done by carefully placing the children in scenarios where they are least likely to find a sharp object or choking hazard while I quickly put the laundry in the cycle. I never separate colors, who has time for that? Forget working out to get that Giselle body every celebrity gets 2 days out of the hospital. Have you seen these 30 day challenges recently on Facebook? 9 times out of 10, that’s a Mom who just wants to make an effort because there is no way to worry about trying to fit 45 minutes each day to exercise. That belly isn’t going anywhere til they are in school. I have the bonus luxury of not being able to drive where we live in the Middle East. So added to the fact that I am bound to these two kids, I’m bound to the confines of these 4 walls. (I would like to insert here that I have been to the bathroom 7 times to get my son to poop unsuccessfully.)
As many know, kids are 24/7. Even when they are asleep, your ass, jiggly as it is from not working out, is on call. Nightmares, sudden hunger pains, and the classic “ I need waa waa (water)”. Instead of sitting in 5 o’clock traffic to go home for the day, we get to sleep at our office. Plus side right? Forget about going to the bathroom alone, those days are gone. Not that I don’t spend my share of time in the bathroom, its called potty training. Or, birth control. Or fucking hell. I apologize for my obscenity. I can’t say that word out loud since I have a voice shadow. (I should also insert here my two year old just peed all over the bathroom floor…again.) I think if most people waited to think about a 2nd kid during the potty training stages, everyone would be an only child. Maybe its just boys but their little wee wee never seems to hit anywhere near the toilet. Walls? Yes. Floor? Yes. Mom? Yes. Then trampling through it to tell me he peed while my nose was stuck to the computer screen trying to write a semi light hearted article on being a mom.
Maybe we make it look easy. Our husbands come home, we look like we haven’t showered in days, which is probably true. We have no makeup on, hair in a messy bun and the same PJ pants from yesterday. Or the day before? Hey, I got to lessen the laundry one way or the other and I cant get rid of a kid. But the house is semi cleaned, the kids are fed, alive and not crying. There is no trace of the absolute chaos that occurred just hours before. The sun is setting on another day I never got the chance to see. I once read an article where the man asked his wife “What does she do all day?”. So the next day she did literally nothing but keep the kids from death. He was shocked to see the place look as though it had been ransacked. I usually cant recall what I did all day. I know I made dinner with the ingredients that I carefully selected at the store last week when I sat down and selected homemade healthy recipes. I made that dinner. I served dinner. I cleaned the dishes while they ate. I then scarfed down mine. I then cleaned the dishes they ate on. Then I wiped the counters. Then I cleaned the table they ate on. Then I put away all the leftovers, the ingredients, and my sanity. What I realize is no one cares or thinks about the bolt that holds the camshaft housing together on your car. Until it breaks and your car is no longer usable. Just like no one cares that I cleaned up after dinner, until the house looks like dooms day. So no, I do nothing important all day but if my husband asks, I held it together. Just like that bolt.
I think if you asked most moms of young kids what they would most want, it would be time every week to recharge. We don’t need expensive shopping trips or lavish spa pampering (although those things would rock). We just want to sit somewhere and enjoy not to be begged for a cookie. Not to be yelled at by a toddler who disagrees with your logical thinking. Just to sit. Maybe enjoy a coffee and stare out at nothing. To have an hour of pure uninterrupted time to let your brain just shut off and let the caffeine rush take you away. To not wonder are the clothes dry, where did I put my phone, does the diapers need changing, or if you burnt the dinner while wrestling to put a onsie 2 sizes to small on your baby but definitely not traipsing upstairs for one that fits. That’s all.
I sometimes wonder when I read what I wrote or look around my house and wonder, am I a terrible mom? But then I remember both kids are alive. Sometimes that’s what we need to focus on in these days where it all goes downhill. Just keep them alive and you will be okay. One day they will be teenagers and you will have a whole new set of problems.
Author’s note: I love my kids. I love being a SAHM. I’m not crazy. I also repeat this affirmation 3 times daily.
Real life guys…