I trudge out to the car to pick up the final load. First load: barefoot toddler walking at my feet, causing me to trip on the steps, purse and heavy book bag slung over my shoulder while I fumble to unlock the door on our dark porch. Second load: wake the sleeping baby, carry her inside, stir the overcooked dinner in the crock pot. Thankfully, Micah arrives home just then, so he can keep our two children from terrorizing each other while I go out to the car one last time. Third load: grab ALL the other bags. The gym bag, the lunch bag, the breast pump bag, the giraffe backpack. Grab a stray shoe out of the backseat.
And that’s when the thoughts start… I am tired. It’s 6:30pm, and we haven’t even had dinner. The girls haven’t had a bath in three days, but I don’t know if I have the energy tonight. Why in the world do I have all these bags? Pumping sucks. Also, don’t forget to put the breast milk in the fridge before it gets ruined.
And do you know how I justify these thoughts? How I make myself feel better about the whole tiring ordeal that is motherhood? I tell myself every other mom is going through the same thing.
Because you know all those “real mom” posts on Instagram? They console me. You know how we always tell each other to keep it real and post our no-filter life online? Those pictures of your messy living room and that tweet about how your kids didn’t nap today and that big glass of wine you are treating yourself to after bedtime… all those narratives run through my head as I trudge back in the house with ten bags on my arms and a hundred burdens on my heart. I feel united with all the other moms in the world who are
struggling by 6pm.
struggling by 6pm.
And sometimes that’s a good thing. I’m not against posting “real” motherhood online. I do it too. I share the bad days and the bits of hope I find in the midst of chaos. I try to encourage other women by showing them that sometimes my days are absolutely nuts… that we have marker scribbles on our walls and our floors are never clean. I’ll share mine if you share yours.
But then you know what happens? Every evening this anxiety creep into my heart. Maybe we actually had a pretty good day. I was home with the girls. They behaved pretty well, took long naps, and I got our bathrooms cleaned. Micah is on his way home from work. Dinner is in the oven and we might even have time for the park and a bath before bed. But it doesn’t matter. Because I know it’s the “witching hour” and other moms out there are struggling. Their dinner is burnt in the crock pot and their kids are hitting each other and they are eyeing that tub of ice cream and counting the minutes until bedtime.
Suddenly my day isn’t so good after all… because “real” motherhood says it’s not. I may have cleaned my bathrooms, but there is still that nagging pile of laundry to be folded. And I cleaned my house at the cost of work time and now I’m behind on my job. The girls are eating too many snacks before dinner and getting crumbs everywhere. The struggle is real.
In my solidarity with other moms, I begin to imagine my perfectly good day is not so good after all. I’m a mom of young kids. I’m supposed to feel frazzled and spent by 6pm, so I believe that I am.
In all my striving to be real about motherhood, sometimes I lose sight of the truth that motherhood is good. I get grumpy at dinnertime because I’d rather dwell on the few inconveniences of my day than reflect on the laughter, learning, and love that have transpired from sun up to sun down.
It’s okay to say that motherhood is hard. It’s okay to say that we are tired. It’s okay to be real about the chaos.
But sometimes it’s okay to say that motherhood is good. Like really, really good.
So today, I declare it. I declare that motherhood is good. I declare it for myself, and I hope I can declare it for you, too.
I’m not going to talk about the state of my house or the behavior of my kids. I’m just going to say that I have two little people in my life. They are delightful and hilarious and precious to me. And I am precious
to them. And that’s a really beautiful thing.
to them. And that’s a really beautiful thing.
I declare that motherhood is, in fact, my favorite thing I’ve ever done.
It’s exhilarating and adventurous and fun and so very sweet.
That’s real motherhood, too.
I do not work outside of the home as you know but I do experience very similar anxiety at certain times of the day. I feel like whether you work at home, out of the home, or do not work at all there is never enough hours in the day. There will always be dinners to make, cars to clean, houses to clean, butts to wipe (lets be real), and then our own needs to take care of. The life of a mom is hard, it is very hard, but it is the best job in the world. Love to you momma, if you ever need encouragement I am here for you. You are truly a superstar mom.