Sometimes, mostly when I’m flustered and burned out, I question just how good I am at this whole mommy thing. I think about other moms, many with more kids than me, and wonder if their days are anything like mine.
The Domestics
Most of the day, of course, is wonderful. We play, we read books, we hide, we build forts, we make pretty things, we learn (Bella is sounding out all the letters of the alphabet!), we bake, etc. But there is the 1-2 hours I spend doing house chores. Where I’m totally distracted by the mess and can’t do anything else until I feed the obsessive compulsive beast. And I feel guilty about putting the kids in front of a movie, or Starfall.com, or sending them to play in their rooms. But my job here at home is to not only play and nurture but also to keep the domestics going. I hear other moms talk about “letting things go around the house” in order to give that energy to their kids. I can’t do that. My house HAS to have what I used to call a “Saturday Sparkle” (when I worked, my house was only really clean on Saturday) every day of the week. I’ve tried not obsessing over the dirt on the floors, but it’s not my nature to let that (or anything else) go. I figure Jeremy works all day, the least I can give him in return is a clean home when he comes back to us. He doesn’t have standards, but I do. And I feel guilty if the house isn’t clean, but I feel guilty for the house taking my attention away from my kids.
The Discipline
I’m not really a spanker. Austin was ALWAYS such a gem that discipline was easy. I could just give him “the look” when I’m disappointed in him and he suddenly looks like a deer in headlights. I last spanked him 3 years ago, can’t remember why. All I do remember is that we both cried for hours afterwards. We cried like babies. And something that makes you feel that horrible has got to be every kind of counter productive, so I try everything else before I pop any butts. I remember Bella being a bit of a challenge for me in her twos, but she’s as easy as pie now. I don’t recall what she would do that was so challenging, but I remember talking to my friend Kim about her behavior. Kim suggested I put Bella in daycare for a few days a week– perhaps Bella just needed more interaction. I never put Bella in daycare (money, as always) and the problems just seemed to disappear. She’s a sassy, sweet, smart and fun girl now. No problems there. But Noah? OMG. Noah. He’s a handful. I’m sure it’s the twos, that it’s just another stage. But this child has the power to unravel everyone in the house. We’ll all become cranky and irritable when he’s cranky and irritable. And it sure seems like he’s cranky and irritable a lot. He has to be engaged at every moment or he’s into trouble– pulling hair, hitting, just being a little monster. Tell me this too will pass. Tell me that, please. And I gripe, but when he’s sweet… Oh, when he’s sweet… He melts the Earth beneath my feet. I’m head over heels for these kids.
The Burn Out
By the end of that day, I’m pooped. I’ve usually done A LOT in that day, so it’s no wonder. I’ve cleaned, I’ve played, I’ve dealt with tantrums, I’ve wiped butts, I’ve dispensed medicines and herbs, I’ve burned 300 calories at the gym, I’ve baked cookies (now a nearly daily routine), I’ve shuttled kids to playdates and gymnastics, I’ve cooked, I’ve even actually squeezed in a shower and a curling iron in there somewhere. I’m tired by 7 pm. I half heartedly play, brush teeth, and read books before bed– and then I’m spent. A glass of wine and a shower revive me just enough to give my sweet husband the rest of me before I crash into a fast slumber.
Mom’s Tantrums
But in this crazy day, I throw some tantrums of my own. And I guess I wish I knew that was OK. I’m good for one tantrum a day. No, I don’t cry or throw myself on the ground when I tantrum. That would be weird; I’m 32. But I do have times during the day when I’m NOT patient or nurturing. I want to lock myself in my room and pout. And it’s usually sparked by some silliness like not being able to take a poop by myself or Noah squirting the last of my hair gel all over my freshly mopped floors. Is it OK to get flustered and burnt out and yet still be grateful and feel blessed? I just wondered because no one really talks about that. I spend a good bit of time wondering if I’m the only mom on Earth who feels a bit overwhelmed. And I feel guilty for being at all flustered because I could try being more grateful. I know more than anyone that I am living the dream.
So tell me… Honestly… What part of this post can you relate to? Do you get flustered or are you one of those Super Moms who gets the job done and leaves the whining for the babies? Do you feel guilt or do you just rule the roost? Do you balance it all with style and grace or do you slip on hair gel while trying to balance it all with style and grace? Fess up, Momma.
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