Ever since I was a child, I always knew that someday I would have my own kids and be a mom. I never questioned it; it was something I always wanted.
I was going to be a perfect stay-at-home mom and enjoy every single moment teaching and encouraging my children. Then, I actually had my own kids, three of them, and that is when I fell off my unicorn and tumbled straight back to reality.
The mom I thought I would be is very, very different than the mom I actually turned out to be. Eight years and three kids later, I have figured out that this “mom” thing isn’t quite as easy as I once believed.
Before they have children, I think all young people have their own thoughts and fantasies about what motherhood will be; what their lives will be. For me, I thought it would be a little bit more like playing house than it really is.
You remember playing house… dressing up “dolls” in cute little outfits, coming up with good recipes for dinner, going shopping or being crafty. I imagined that I’d go to yoga every day, get Starbucks on my way to volunteer for the classroom party bringing along with me the most amazing Pinterest treats I baked the night before, and spend my days doing fun crafts and going to parks and play dates with my children.
Go figure, there is a little more to it than that. I didn’t plan for all of life’s real struggles; finances, relationships, illnesses, and just plain old every day annoyances. I didn’t anticipate that I would have these feelings of defeat, inadequacy, and being completely mentally and physically exhausted.
In truth, I yell far more than I want to, I am much more impatient than I ever thought I would be, and I am not always in control of my emotions. To me, being a mom is a more like being a crazed lunatic with multiple personalities. At least, that how it feels lately.
One minute you’re snuggling with your baby smiling at how cute they are, quietly helping them learn a new activity, or lovingly reading them a bedtime story.
You think to yourself “I got this. I can do this.” Then BAM. Now you being physically assaulted by the very same 2-year-old as she bites your arm and squeezes your neck fat because you asked her to wear pants.