Skip to main content

Just A Mom

I switch off the lights and change from my yoga pants to my pajamas.
As I crawl into bed, I hear my husband's heavy breath from the sleep he somehow always finds way before I do.
I close my eyes and try to find rest, but my head literally feels like its buzzing.
It's a hive of to-dos, and worries, and Did-I-Pay-That type questions pinging off the walls of my skull.

Someone once told me that it was annoying how moms acted like their job was so hard. They just wanted to complain.
It's just being a mom.

That thought pops into my mind as I climb out of bed to double check that the doors are locked and that the kids are ok.

I guess I do complain a lot. There are surely people who have harder jobs than I do and they definitely don't get to do it from the comfort of stretchy pants and their own home. I guess I should spend more time being deeply grateful for the fact I get to work from home and spend so much time with my kids. I should be grateful I get to go to the gym every day and that my schedule is largely my own to set.

But I would be lying if I said I felt anything resembling gratitude on days like today. Days where I clean up the third potty training mess of the day, which interrupted the dishes I was doing because of the curdled milk sippy-cup I found between the couch cushions, hidden under the pile of laundry that I put off so I could actually do my paying job, and damn it, its 2:30 and I forgot to put dinner in the crockpot so now I need to come up with plan b, and holy crap where is the baby? Did I leave the bathroom door open? Of course, he threw his sister's toothbrush in the toilet. Speaking of sister, it's time to go grab her off the bus. Where the hell are everyone's pants and shoes?

What was I saying?

Oh ya...gratitude and complaining too much.
It's hard to find gratitude on the days where my head is left buzzing.

I crawl back into bed and try again to summon sleep.

The buzzing has quieted some at this point, but I roll over and make one last to-do list on my phone, just in case I forget by the morning that we need milk, and to pay the trash bill, and...and...damn it I already forgot the other thing.

"Moms just want to complain. Women have been doing it since the beginning of time."

Just a mom.

That's like looking at a tree and saying it's just a worthless tree.
It's not acknowledging that the tree is steadfast with deep roots.
It gives you air to breathe, fruit to eat, limbs for shelter, and shade for rest.
But even the mighty tree loses its leaves and breaks down every fall. Even a tree has to shed the weight of its purpose to continue to grow strong.

Maybe, just maybe, a complaining mom is trying to shed the weight of what is breaking her down. Maybe she's looking for confirmation she isn't alone. Maybe these conversations are the closest we get to shedding our leaves and trying to come back fresh again.

My eyes finally fall shut, and the buzzing has given way to a final thought.

I may complain.
I may fall short of gratitude.
But, I'm happy to be just a mom.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

When Insecuritues Control You

Have you ever thought about the power you give to your insecurities? I remember one day a while back, I was getting dressed for the gym and I realized all of my leggings were still in the washing machine. My only option for the leg-day ahead was compression shorts. I died a little inside thinking about how people might judge the cellulite on my legs or think i was too big to be wearing shorts at all. Why couldn't I have been born during a time period where curves and rolls were attractive? But, then again, booty shorts wouldn't even be a thing in that day and age, and I surely would already be dead from small pox or stoned to death for one sin or another by now. I digress. I closed the drawer and decided I could just skip the gym that day. And then it hit me. I was so insecure about other peoples opinions of MY body, that I would rather stay home than risk someone thinking something negative about me. What kind of life is that? What kind of example was that setting for ...
Post a Comment
Read more

They're Listening

"Ugh, I suck. I'm the worst. I'm not good at anything." I've gotten on my daughter 100 times for talking to herself like that. "Would you say that to your friends? Then don't say it to yourself." I just could not wrap my head around where my confident daughter was learning to talk to herself like that. And then I heard it. On my last hunting trip, I was lucky enough to have a friend record the hunt. At one point, things weren't going the way I had planned. I remember mumbling to myself how upset I was. I remember jokingly saying I wasn't as good as we thought. I remember calling my husband, still breathing heavy from the hike, and joking that I was too fat for this. When we retrieved the elk, I remember being congratulated for the shot, but wondering if I could have done better. I was hard on myself for needing help with field dressing. I was physically ill that night because I was so worried I might not be strong enough to pack out...
Post a Comment
Read more

Dealing With Hip Pain (Part 1)

Hands up if you deal with hip pain after having kids 🙋‍♀️ This one is for you. After kid 1 and 2, I really struggled with pain in my hips. Even when I was training 6 days a week (sometimes twice a day), the hip pain was there when I went hiking or snowshoeing. During my pregnancy with kid 3 I started struggling with Symphisis Pubis Dysfunction (SPD). To sum it up, I felt like my pelvis was going to snap in half. At the recommendation of friends who had been there, I sought out a physical therapist. Hannah Gray with Pelvic Health and Wellness gave me some really simple at-home exercises to strengthen my pelvic floor. I did different variations of 🍑 Glute Bridges 🍑Squats 🧜‍♀️ Slutty Mermaids (I think normal people call these clam shells, but whatever...) People. This was life changing! In May, I hiked a 14er and for the last mile I basically drug my leg and used my walking sticks as crutches. Just 5 months l...
Post a Comment
Read more