Sometimes I feel like being a mom is this ooze that threatens to suffocate and slime me, until any sense of "me-ness" has been sucked away and replaced by Motherhood. Case in point: The daily battle to get the kids ready and out the door for school on time versus starting work on time. There are some days I feel so desperate, clinging with the tips of my fingernails onto this calling that I love and that pays me: "Can't I just keep this piece of myself? Please? Can't I just do this thing I love without fear of it getting sucked into the vortex of others' needs?"
I try to keep Me, but it's an effort. If I don't keep a watchful eye, inertia sucks me in and I become one with the ooze.
Out of everything that changed when I had kids, I think the biggest shocker was the realization that my accrued vacation and sick time no longer belonged to me. What do you mean, I'm either working at a paid job or working the unpaid duty of being a mom? I'm supposed to use my time off to bring them to the doctor, stay at home with them when they're sick, or go on a trip where I'm taking care of someone else, but just in a different location?
Do I ever get to rest? Will I ever get to rest again?
The answer is: No, not really, and noppity nope nope nope.
Being a mom is full of contradictions. When they're with you, they exhaust you. When they're away, you miss them and you worry about them, down to your bones. Being a mom transcends the human experience but is also so grimy, full of poo, squabbling, and the grind of the same thing Over and Over. It's the best thing that you've ever done but also... the worst thing you've ever done??? You see yourself at your best and you see yourself: Teeth bared, claws out, a monster that everyone runs away from.
The constant is that you're tired tired tired.
But then you have these moments: You really stop and listen to their little voices. You stare at their faces. You wonder how anything could be so perfectly shaped and proportioned. You see the greedy way they collect rocks and shells, little treasures stuffed into jacket pockets with grimy hands. You hear the way they giggle when you make their stuffies talk to them. Wow! - You get to create a whole world, just for them! You feel the safety and warmth of a body nestled into yours. Imprinted in your memories is the way that they say “ham-buh-guh” instead of “hamburger.” You feel the wonder of being the name they call when they get hurt, and that you get to be the one to fix it for them.
This life, being their mom: It’s not for the faint of heart. I’ll take it every single time.