With Love.

Recently one of my friends told me that ALL moms lose it on a regular basis. They just don’t talk about it. 

This kind of pisses me off. What’s so wrong with admitting that motherhood is hard? And I don’t mean Algebra-hard. I had a really hard time with math in school. I was good at the other subjects, but I was at a remedial level in math. In fact, my issues with math almost kept me from graduating college … I could not for the life of me pass a math class, my brain just cannot compute numbers. I still use my fingers to count. At 33 years old.  

So motherhood isn’t hard like mathematics, it’s hard like GOOD GOD I might die.  

It makes me dig deep. There are times when it almost seems insurmountable, like I am so exhausted and over it, and yet there are little kids at my feet who are screaming and snotty and need something. They need their mother, or some adult, but I am the only adult here. Sometimes I feel sorry for them, that they have no other option — just the very pregnant and very hormonal Mommy. And so by the grace of God I find strength when I feel I have none, and patience when I’m out of it, and my love for them carries me through. After they have been asleep for an hour, I think they’re cute again — and after I get a full night’s rest, I am ready to start another day.

This week I had a freak out which involved me thinking I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom anymore because it’s TOO HARD. If you’re reading this and think, “It can’t be any harder than working full-time and rushing to pick up the kids/cook dinner/take baths, etc,” then I’m here to tell you — I’ve experienced both sides and they are both extremely challenging. Neither side has it easier than the other. Seriously. Being a mom is hard.

I wish more people would talk freely about these things, because I can’t be the only one who requires a glass of wine to get through the hours of 4-7 p.m. I’m pregnant now, so obviously I have nothing to take the edge off except some lemon-raspberry flavored Natural Calm. But don’t worry, I make do with what I have access to.

So back to my fleeting desire to return to the work force: I decided that despite the fact that I feel absolutely batshit CRAZY, I am doing what is best for my family. No one else could do as good of a job of caring for my kids, even when I’m doing a really crappy job, because I do a crappy job with love.
Also, this boy …

 … loves to drink water from the toilet.

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