Why am I up at the ass of crack of dawn, before the birds and the sun?
Why am I eating an already picked over bowl of Lucky Charms for breakfast, i.e why am I eating soggy cereal? Why am I eating Lucky Charms without marshmallows? And seriously, why am I eating Lucky Charms to begin with?
Why am I sitting on the floor, coloring pictures of cartoon characters I do not recognize while guzzling half a cup of lukewarm coffee?
Why am I spending hours every day scrubbing ketchup from my clothes, pee from my living room carpet, crusted bits of mac and cheese from my couch, and crap (literal crap) from my daughters pants?
Why am I playing soccer in the 90-degree sun?
Because I am parent.
Because I am mom.
Because I am a stay-at-home mom, and because my daughter doesnt know the difference between 4 a.m. and 7 p.m. Because my daughter doesnt appreciate the value of sleeping or sitting still. Because my daughter doesnt appreciate the luxury which comes from drinking hot coffee or lying beneath an air conditioner vent.
But I do, and so on some days — like today — I find myself feeling remorseful, defeated, and deflated.
Some days, like today, I wake up and wonder why.
Why if I wanted to be a mother so badly am I crying one minute and laughing the next?
Why am I hiding in the bathroom from my daughter if I love her? If I truly want to cherish every moment?
Why do I feel as though I am falling, and failing? (Both her and myself.)
And why — three years later — am I still fantasizing about life before? I am blessed with a beautiful and healthy young girl, so why am I still mourning the loss of me? Why am I lamenting the life that could have been?
Because I am a mom.
Because I am a parent.
And because I am a person: I am a normal human-freakin being and, like any normal person, I have needs and wants and desires that extend far beyond our taupe-colored walls. But like the Legos on our kitchen floor and the crayons strewn across the carpet, I keep kicking them aside.
My dreams and desires are buried beneath a pile of dolls, a stack of Golden Books, and an inordinate amount of little people.
Sure, this may be my own fault. I have made myself something of a martyr in our family: my days are not my own, my time is not my own, my body is not my own, and everything I do, I do for another. (I even eat on my daughters schedule.) But I think most moms — and most parents — struggle this way.
We struggle to find balance. We struggle to find time. And we struggle to make time and take time for ourselves.
We struggle to give ourselves permission to take care of our needs or follow our dreams.
But even we have limits, and sometimes our needs need to be met, no matter how complex they may be, or how benign.
And while I do not have any answers — while I cannot offer you time-saving strategies or sanity-saving solutions — I will say that it is important to remember to love yourself today.
Try to remember to honor yourself today.
Try to remember your dreams are worth it: you are worth it.
And try to remember that you must fill your own cup before pouring every ounce of your being into another’s. At least once in awhile.
At least every now and then.
At least today.
If you are a mom and find yourself nodding your head make sure to SHARE this with the other moms in your life.
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Read more: http://www.littlethings.com/wishing-id-never-had-kids/