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We are already halfway through summer vacation. Or: we are ONLY halfway through summer vacation, depending on your perspective. I’m usually a “glass half full” kind of girl, but, it’s going to be a long five weeks.
I didn’t need a calendar to tell me that I am in the thick of it. I can tell by my “Mommy?” overdose. I am being strangled by that one little word and suffocated by all of its demands. OK, that’s dramatic, but I am a bit overwhelmed, and it shows. Like when one of my children has pelted me with the 500,000th “Mommy” of the day, and I say, “WHAT?!” and it just keeps getting louder and louder until I gag and choke on my own frustrated screams. I swear, sometimes, they don’t even need anything. It’s like they’re just making sure I’m on standby. Or when they finally make me snap because they have been driving me CRAZY for days and then they look at me like I’m … CRAZY!
Also indicative of the mid-summer break meltdown (BREAK? ha ha ha ha ha!), are all of the great blog posts from moms, confessing that they are … STRESSED. I really enjoy them. When I read a story about a mom who can’t leave her house with her children because disaster will inevitably ensue, or a mom who thinks she may have found a technique to make a child stop asking “why,” or a mom who feels like she lives in complete chaos all the time, I feel a lot better about myself. I breath a sigh of relief, and I chuckle because, I understand. I’ve been there. I feel for you. And I really appreciate your confession of not having it all under control, or your advice on how to control the chaos, or the whys. I thank you. And I would never judge you. I do however, judge those suspiciously perfect parents.
I recently posted on Facebook that I REALLY need September to get here. I need teachers to listen to my children’s NON-STOP chatter for a few hours and to answer their endless questions. I need a bus driver to take my children away from me for a bit. I need a schedule that justifies my putting our children to bed just as their father is getting a chance to enjoy them. I need to wake up to an alarm clock rather than waking up to “so, what fun thing are we doing today, Mommy?” because they know that my mental well-being depends on getting us out of this house to do something “fun.” (Which means hauling around four kids and a few large bags of necessities, buckling them in and out of car seats multiple times, ignoring pleas to stop at every fast food restaurant we pass, someone pooping in their diaper just seconds after we leave the house, one kid wanting the air conditioner on in the car and another one wanting the windows open, while my just-cleaned car is being trashed by beach sand and filthy children … FUN!)
But, it is very hard to get any sympathy from non-moms (not to mention the teachers who were cursing me for even saying “September.”) Non-mothers can’t imagine what it is that could make it THAT stressful. How do you explain the stress of being utterly selfless every waking moment of your life to a single man or woman with no kids? How can you whine about never having a moment to yourself or not even being able to hear yourself think most of time when you both know how blessed and fortunate you are to have these precious, space-invading, children? And it’s hard to explain because a “good mother” would never confess that she just needs her child to stop talking for a while or to just … go away … for a few minutes. It just sounds too horrible to say out loud no matter how much you might think it.
I’ve got the very best of intentions for motherhood. But it’s really hard not to doubt myself when I find myself so burned out in the middle of summer “vacation.” (I can’t even type that word with a straight face). And I know that there are women who homeschool their children and spend every single day with them. And I have seen all those other mothers getting teary-eyed and wondering “where has the time gone” when they speak of sending their precious babies off to kindergarten while I’m eagerly watching the seconds tick by on the countdown clock and anticipating tears of joy when that bus comes! And I have even heard another mother sound sincerely crushed that her children’s new school starts in August instead of September. They must love their children more than I love mine. No, they don’t. Maybe they don’t have four kids? Maybe they won’t still have a 1- and a 2-year-old at home when school starts, so they are worried that they will be lonely in September? I can imagine that when all four of my kids are in school, I will miss them terribly and feel a little lonely. But I am REALLY looking forward to missing them and feeling a little lonely once in a while.
So thank you, stressed mothers, for sharing your confessions of imperfect mothering. Thank you for being open and honest, and human. Thank you for reminding me that this motherhood thing is hard and all of my shortcomings are understandable. Thank you for reminding me that my children are perfectly normal crazy children, and I am their understandably crazy mother. You are the life support that is getting me through five more weeks.
I didn’t need a calendar to tell me that I am in the thick of it. I can tell by my “Mommy?” overdose. I am being strangled by that one little word and suffocated by all of its demands. OK, that’s dramatic, but I am a bit overwhelmed, and it shows. Like when one of my children has pelted me with the 500,000th “Mommy” of the day, and I say, “WHAT?!” and it just keeps getting louder and louder until I gag and choke on my own frustrated screams. I swear, sometimes, they don’t even need anything. It’s like they’re just making sure I’m on standby. Or when they finally make me snap because they have been driving me CRAZY for days and then they look at me like I’m … CRAZY!
Also indicative of the mid-summer break meltdown (BREAK? ha ha ha ha ha!), are all of the great blog posts from moms, confessing that they are … STRESSED. I really enjoy them. When I read a story about a mom who can’t leave her house with her children because disaster will inevitably ensue, or a mom who thinks she may have found a technique to make a child stop asking “why,” or a mom who feels like she lives in complete chaos all the time, I feel a lot better about myself. I breath a sigh of relief, and I chuckle because, I understand. I’ve been there. I feel for you. And I really appreciate your confession of not having it all under control, or your advice on how to control the chaos, or the whys. I thank you. And I would never judge you. I do however, judge those suspiciously perfect parents.
I recently posted on Facebook that I REALLY need September to get here. I need teachers to listen to my children’s NON-STOP chatter for a few hours and to answer their endless questions. I need a bus driver to take my children away from me for a bit. I need a schedule that justifies my putting our children to bed just as their father is getting a chance to enjoy them. I need to wake up to an alarm clock rather than waking up to “so, what fun thing are we doing today, Mommy?” because they know that my mental well-being depends on getting us out of this house to do something “fun.” (Which means hauling around four kids and a few large bags of necessities, buckling them in and out of car seats multiple times, ignoring pleas to stop at every fast food restaurant we pass, someone pooping in their diaper just seconds after we leave the house, one kid wanting the air conditioner on in the car and another one wanting the windows open, while my just-cleaned car is being trashed by beach sand and filthy children … FUN!)
But, it is very hard to get any sympathy from non-moms (not to mention the teachers who were cursing me for even saying “September.”) Non-mothers can’t imagine what it is that could make it THAT stressful. How do you explain the stress of being utterly selfless every waking moment of your life to a single man or woman with no kids? How can you whine about never having a moment to yourself or not even being able to hear yourself think most of time when you both know how blessed and fortunate you are to have these precious, space-invading, children? And it’s hard to explain because a “good mother” would never confess that she just needs her child to stop talking for a while or to just … go away … for a few minutes. It just sounds too horrible to say out loud no matter how much you might think it.
I’ve got the very best of intentions for motherhood. But it’s really hard not to doubt myself when I find myself so burned out in the middle of summer “vacation.” (I can’t even type that word with a straight face). And I know that there are women who homeschool their children and spend every single day with them. And I have seen all those other mothers getting teary-eyed and wondering “where has the time gone” when they speak of sending their precious babies off to kindergarten while I’m eagerly watching the seconds tick by on the countdown clock and anticipating tears of joy when that bus comes! And I have even heard another mother sound sincerely crushed that her children’s new school starts in August instead of September. They must love their children more than I love mine. No, they don’t. Maybe they don’t have four kids? Maybe they won’t still have a 1- and a 2-year-old at home when school starts, so they are worried that they will be lonely in September? I can imagine that when all four of my kids are in school, I will miss them terribly and feel a little lonely. But I am REALLY looking forward to missing them and feeling a little lonely once in a while.
So thank you, stressed mothers, for sharing your confessions of imperfect mothering. Thank you for being open and honest, and human. Thank you for reminding me that this motherhood thing is hard and all of my shortcomings are understandable. Thank you for reminding me that my children are perfectly normal crazy children, and I am their understandably crazy mother. You are the life support that is getting me through five more weeks.
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