I’m not sure why the last week or two has been hard for me.
My husband’s been getting on my nerves, the kids are too loud, I’m always one step behind at work, the house is a wreck and the dogs won’t shut up. It’s been one of those times where you count down until bedtime at 8 p.m. for the kids and then climb into bed at 8:01.
As a mother, life gets hard for no apparent reason. Everybody always wants something: a bandaid, a kiss, a piece of chocolate, a drink, a diaper change, permission to ride their bike or someone to play, read or color with. Husbands want someone to tell about their day, to pull together dinner, to call about a bill, to gripe about work with and binge-watch Mad Men with. Working moms have to pack lunches the night before, drive in traffic, meet deadlines, answer emails, remember everything on their to-do list and do it all with a smile and patience. Then leave and go pick up the kids who want a bandaid, a kiss, a piece of chocolate…you get the picture.
Motherhood is a juggling act where someone just keeps throwing balls into the rotation. Just when you get used to juggling three, here comes the fourth.
I’ve been sleep deprived for six and a half years. This morning I was just tired. It may have been watching Mad Men last night a little too late, or the fact that it’s Thursday and it’s been a busy week. I knew I had to get up, but just didn’t want to yet. Jackson had already nudged me to ask about trash day. When I heard him again, I had to reach deep for patience as he placed something on my back. I figured it was another trash can.
Nope, it was a plate with breakfast on it. He’d made me breakfast in bed. And coffee too. When I asked why he made me breakfast in bed, he said: “I thought it would be nice.” I appropriately melted. And then he said: “Oops, hold on, let me get your toast, I dropped it in the hall.” That was the moment it was perfect for me.
I just needed to say: it soaks in. Just when you think the repetition and the sacrifice is going to drown you. When you walk by a mirror and wonder who that person is with the extra 15 lbs, new crinkles around their eyes and peanut butter on their shirt. Moms, it is being noticed. A mother’s love soaks in: it’s forming who they are, and it’s changing who you are.
And that moment when it gets sprinkled back your way….wow. It is the very best feeling in the world.