“Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm.”
Peaceful by Joewong038
I’ll be the first person to admit that I dreamed about staying home with my kids. Homeschool, organic, nature walks, art projects, museums, a spotless beautifully decorated house, organized closets and more all floated through my head. I just knew that if I could work it out to stay home, everything would be perfect.
At the time, my husband and I were juggling our firstborn. I worked early early in the morning, and came home to trade off with Matt, who worked late at night. We thought that having one parent with Declan at all times was the best route. Except that neither of us were sleeping well and D wasn’t necessarily getting the attention he deserved. We were there with him, but not really. Many times I was so tired at work that I’d fall asleep on the phone with people.
Once I was pregnant with Rowan, we knew that we needed to do something. We got everything in line and I never returned to work after giving birth to Rowan.
That should be the end of the story right? Butterflies and homemade bread and rainbows.
Not really.
I struggle with staying at home.
Call me lazy, most days I don’t care if you do, but this is HARD.
Laundry is never done, dishes always pile up, the boys are always destroying something, someone always has a snide comment about people who don’t “work”, and there’s no monetary reward for doing it all.
It’s so easy to sit in front of the computer, revive those dying brain cells with random web browsing and just put it off for another day.
Or you can spend the day doing laundry, only to find out that while you were upstairs hanging business clothes, a 10 pound bag of flour was oh-so-quietly flung across the downstairs.
Or you can set out all the supplies for a craft project and be so excited to see what your kids make, just for it to turn into a brawlfest over one orange marker when there’s two others sitting right there.
Or it means trying to write a blog post only to hear a proud “I wiped my butt Mama!” come from the bathroom, where an investigation reveals that you need to dig half a roll of toilet paper out of the toilet. Again.
I’m not alone in this. I know I’m not the only one who has these days, or incidents, or chores. But most days and weeks, I am alone.
It’s hard to have friends when you have two little boys. Other families with kids are busy with their own issues and those without kids, well, don’t want to spend adult time dealing with someone else’s. I feel like a failure when I ask other people to watch my kids so I can run to the store, or have a date night, or just be alone.
Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s Other Mom Syndrome.
Other Moms have perfect houses. Well behaved clean children. A spotless kitchen. Perfect outings.
But who are these Other Moms? Are you one? Can you please give me some pointers?
I can’t find motivation. Why do it now, if I just have to do it again with no thank you, no recognition, no reason?
Where can I find the motivation to do what I need to do without sacrificing myself?
My husband and I have somewhat regular date nights, but little to talk about other than running the house. The things that he gets excited about go over my head. I’ve been out of his industry for 3 years now, and who really wants to talk about decorating and potty training? He, understandably, has no idea what mitered hems are and what’s the best ratio of borax to Fels Naptha for the next batch of homemade laundry soap. We end up worrying about money, because there never seems to be enough and I get angry because Matt’s company has owed him a raise for a year now and the missing 10k is unlikely to ever be seen.
I try to find people to connect with on the blog-o-sphere, but am easily intimidated by their seemingly perfect lives, beautiful pictures and well-written, thought provoking posts. I can’t find a niche.
Occasionally, we’ll be invited to a party or event but by the time it rolls around I have so much anxiety about going that we don’t. Which typically leads to less and less invites to begin with.
I really want to go back to college, to do something taxing with my mind, to graduate, to have a career, to save lives, to be important. Financially and time management-wise, it’s impossible.
How will I ever find the patience to homeschool? Jeebus, am I even smart enough to homeschool these boys? I really hate math.
Should I just give up on wishing for that beautiful room and buy some plywood and cinder blocks to just get the clutter off the ground?
Unlike most mommy bloggers, I have no solution. I don’t have any encouraging links or action plans. I just really really need to hear from someone, anyone, who has the same doubts and issues.
As I get closer to wrapping this whinefest up, I doubt I’ll click that taunting little ‘Publish’ button up there. It’s just more proof for people to consider me a failure. But, ya know what? Whatever, I can’t hide who I am and the perceived issues I face.
So fire away. I know Momma M would just tell me to ‘Get Over It’, but it doesn’t seem to work like that, as far as I can tell.
