I’m going to be honest and say that there was a stretch of 2-3 months, that I just wasn’t enjoying Motherhood, much at all. Of course, there were times when it was feeling positive, but majority of the time, I was just feeling, stuck. Between my daughters new found sense of determination, my son getting into his ‘fuckin fours’, and my denial of being pregnant with our third, it was all just too much. I didn’t want to play, I didn’t want to listen, I didn’t want to have to comply to their every need. I did do all that of course, because they are my children and I love them, but I didn’t love doing it. I didn’t love myself for feeling the way I was feeling, and it resulted in a vicious cycle of Mom-guilt. But no matter how many times I thought ‘tomorrow will be different’, it never was. I woke up heavy & dreading the day. Perhaps it was partly the winter blues, and being a mom you never can get a ‘mental health day’ to the full extent as you’d like, but it was a drag & I was down in the dumps.
I talked about the end of my 2016 in another post, and how it was heavy & dark, so I won’t dwell on that more, but this session of lack of joy of motherhood, came on the end tail of that, and lingered, until only about 2-3 weeks ago.
I’m not sure what it was, or what switched inside me, but the majority of that unjoyful part, is gone. I am seeing my beautiful, smart children, for what they are: kids. They are learning the ways of life (aren’t we all, still, even as adults?!) they are curious, genuine, honest & loving. They don’t mean to be ‘bad’ or hurt on purpose. I realize I projected a lot on them, expected too much from their behaviours. Shit, they are only 4 & not even 2 yet! Chill out Momma Bear.
I’m starting (again) to cherish these moments. These moments I get with them when they still want me, need me. Lsitening to the (only) joke my (almost) 2 year old knows, and watching her pure joy & laughter in sharing it. When my 4 year old makes the connection between things in life. When they break out in song. When conversations can be had together. When they bring me rock after rock, or mud cupcakes. All these moments, the moments that make up our day, the ones that don’t last, these are what I’m holding onto. What I am grateful for. What I’m starting to appreciate again. Sure, the shitty moments are still fully there, but that’s life. It doesn’t help if I over react, or yell, it’s not the role model I want to be. I’m turning inwards again, to check my own self before lashing out to my littles, my loving littles. Who just want to show me what they know, and want me to be apart of their every mintute.