Life feels really hard lately. No matter what I do, I just can't get it right. "Too stubborn, too rigid, too chicken" - this feels like me and this takes up real estate in my mind. Am I messing up my kids forever? Why can't I do it like other people? Why can't I BE like other people? Wishing I could be more carefree, spontaneous, novelty-seeking, and dammit, FUN. Am I asking too much of myself to be a little more fun? (Yes, yes, that IS asking too much of myself.)
Alas, I am not wired that way. Inheritances received from my parents include stubbornness, a strong will, a serious disposition (thank you, Dad), and a nervous system that feels safe in routine. My family, we are not of the carefree ilk. Give us showers and bedtimes at 6pm, no leaving the house after dark, 9+ hours of sleep, the same soft pillows on which to rest our heads. Wait, am I routine, or am I just tired?
Motherhood has sucked the few natural dregs of spontaneity and carefreeness from my marrow. I'm vigilant to everything my kids are doing: Are they on their screens too much? (Yes, they are.) Have they eaten a real, whole, unprocessed bite of food today? (No, they haven't.) Are they making a mess (literal and metaphorical) that I'll have to clean up later? (Does a bear shit in the woods?) Why can't my kids just follow the rules and listen? (Because neither of their parents do.) Dammit, why do they have so many needs and why are they always asking for something?!
Sometimes I feel like a loser because in my spare moments, if I'm not reading, cleaning the house, or working out, I'm wringing my hands wondering why I lack other fun hobbies to fill my time. I wonder if there's something wrong with me, if it's because I'm devoid of curiosity or am just lazy. But then I think, Where is the space and time to do that?
Other times I feel the imagined gaze of others judging me, asking, "Does a good mom get dressed up, go out with friends? She's a bad mom."
It's an old story, but moms really can't win. Dissatisfaction abounds.
This is not one of those pieces that I'll tie up neatly with a bow. I end this still feeling tired, unsure of myself, with a physical tightness in my shoulders. Feelings don't have clear endings. So I take all this and humbly mix it in with the rest of this soup that I call life, until my feelings wisp and change again.