All in Instagram archives
Motherhood is about sacrifices. We sacrifice our bodies. We sacrifice our careers. We sacrifice our free-time, interests, hobbies, privacy, girls nights out, slow quiet mornings, stain free clothes, and pretty much anything else you held dear before cranking out a bunch of tiny humans that somewhat resemble a less tired version of yourself.
But motherhood isn't all bad.
They refuse everything you give them. You long for the days of old when a boob would suffice and you knew they were getting all the nutrients they needed. You worry that they aren't getting enough calcium or potassium. Oh crap! What about iron? Do you think they are getting enough iron?
Before having kids, you promised you wouldn't give your offspring Mac & Cheese every night. Instead, they'd be "cultured" and would like things like curry and sushi (at least the unauthentic cooked kind). Now you *actually* have kids and they don't eat squat.
Pregnancy after loss - for some reason I was in denial that the possibility of a miscarriage would happen to me... until it happened. I ended up having a d and c and after that was planning on waiting a few months to start trying again and then BAM... pregnant, about 2 weeks after the procedure.
I wasn't filled with excitement or the tears of happiness that I was with my first. I instantly felt anxiety and my head filled with all the 'what ifs' and it didn't go away until my son was in my arms. I never felt like I would actually get my baby. Ultrasounds were the worst for me (that's how I found out I lost my first), I went in blissfully unaware anything was wrong.
As a parent I want the best for my children, but I am exhausted by all of the things our culture tells us our kids need to do in order to succeed. I look at my social feed and see my peers with their toddlers and preschoolers talking about preschool applications or shuffling their littles from dance to swimming to soccer. And I wonder, am I missing the mark?
Bedtime and Naptime have been a major struggle at our house the past couple of weeks. In that everyone is refusing to do it.
I don't know what it is about these times of day that is so draining, but they are. By the end of the day, the grace has run out. The prospect of sitting with a glass of wine, watching a show without any educational value is just around the corner, but these little people won't let you! They know life goes on after they are in bed and they are struggling with major #FOMO
My whole life I dreamt of being a mom. It's literally all I've ever wanted to do in life. I prayed for a sweet baby that I could love and play with and raise with my amazing husband.
Mom. MOM. MOOOooooOooooOOOOOOM!
I see you, mama. Hiding in the shower, eating chocolate so your body can have the sugar it needs to not lose your shit. Maybe if you wait it out, they will fall asleep. Obviously that is a joke, because in what universe do your children ever fall asleep?! It is reasonable to assume that they may forget what they needed your help with and get distracted with something else. Here's to hoping.
I once was a mom of #2under2. That had it's many challenges. It's like having 2 babies, but babies who have different needs and are in two totally different developmental stages. In that first 6 months of having two under two, we all cried every single day. Then once my little one turned 1, it started to get easier and every day after that got easier and easier.
My kids are now 2 and 3 and they are BFFs, except when they are not.
I am a very "go with the flow" parent (which I know is a weird combo with my helicopter parent tendencies). I play each day by ear all in the name of "play" and "experiencing childhood" with my kids. I love to be spontaneous and keep our lives free for whatever we *feel* like doing.
You know what does not mix with a free range mama? Toddlers and preschoolers.
Last night my son lost his stuffed tiger. We talked and talked about all the places he'd taken him and he was nowhere to be found. It took him over 3 hours to fall asleep and he was inconsolable.
My heart ached as I listened to him talk and cry about tiger, not understanding why I couldn't fix the problem. I wanted to fix it so bad, but I just couldn't. I looked everywhere. We texted grandma to see if tiger was there, but she looked all over and tiger was no where to be found. I couldn't help him and I couldn't comfort him. We were both weary and tired and no closer to finding tiger.
I didn't always dream of having babies. I fell into this role like Alice down the rabbit hole - terrified and ecstatic, unsure and amazed all at once. This change from an egocentric existence to living and breathing for another life did not always feel "worth it." I had days of questioning not only my abilities as a mother, but my decision to take it on in the first place.
"But being a stay-at-home mom was the loneliest kind of lonely, in which she was always and never by herself." - Barbara Kingsolver
Motherhood is isolating.
Even with all of the park meetups and community classes where you are around other parents and kids, there is still an emptiness that comes with being a mom.
I hated working for other people. Nearly every job I had came with a boss who micromanaged. Anyone who ever had a micromanaging boss, knows how suffocating and ineffective that management strategy can be. I always felt like I was on the brink of getting in trouble, which in turn made me so anxious that I would mess up and get in trouble. Or sometimes I would just say eff it and do things the way I thought they should be done because I knew I'd get in trouble no matter what. It was a never-ending cycle.
I recently realized the same thing was happening with my threenager.
Yesterday we hit the trifecta of home ownership issues. Do you notice how, like with famous people dying, house issues hit in 3s? The air conditioning went out. A handful of electrical outlets decided to stop working, including the one our fridge likes to be plugged into. Then someone (*cough*me*cough*) left a rotisserie chicken carcass in our outdoor trash and it is now infested with maggots which are becoming flies which are wanting to get into our house because all of our windows are open. #firstworldproblems, I know.
"I see those moms who are bending down to their kid's level, speaking in a soft tone as their child quietly does what they say. How come that doesn't work for me?" I shared with my mom the other day as I was lamenting over the fact that I'm not the quiet, gentle-spirited mother I always dreamt I'd be.
"Those moms are just different than you." My mom explained that softer quieter souls breed softer quieter (aka more submissive) children. "Your home will always be a little more volatile than other homes, because you are...spirited."
They say there is a 7 year itch. Well, I've got an itch and this guy is the only one who can scratch it. Yes, I understand that sounds dirty and I don't even care.
I'm Sarah. My husband and I met in the second grade and spent a decade as friends and almost another decade together. We have 2 kids (3yo son and 2yo daughter) and live in a suburb outside of Minneapolis. During the day, I stay at home with my kids and I rock the #naptimehustlefor my business as a fundraising auctioneer (more at @sarahtheauctioneer if you are curious what the heck that means). Basically I get to throw on a gown, heels and a set of false lashes every Friday and Saturday during gala season and help people spend their money so other people can have access to clean water or a safe place to go when they are abused. Think Robin Hood with a gavel and heels. JK, I don't use a gavel.
The biggest struggle in motherhood is probably our own stupid brains. Yes, our offspring cause some issues and wear us down with their nagging and need to eat 3 meals a day (which sometimes feels like ten million meals a day), but the thing that causes me the most strife is my brain.