Monday, July 30, 2012

Motherhood Uncensored: I'm human. And I'm super. Just not super ...

"Just eat what's in front of you!" I snapped, nearly tossing their sippy cups at them as I stomped off.?

"What did they do?" my husband asked as he fixed his coffee before leaving for work, my tone uncharacteristically short for 8am.?

"It's just me! Doing breakfast again!" I barked back.

"Makes sense," he whispered. Sarcastically.?

And I know it doesn't, to him anyway.?

We've had the "you think what I do is so easy arguments" and that's what it sounded like way back when I was depressed and lonely and dealing with a colicky newborn just over eight years ago.

Because I couldn't exactly verbalize what it was that I was feeling.

I know now that it was never a competition about who had the harder job. It's not the?exotic locales, like Madrid or Paris, or the "Ha I almost walked in on Jon Favreau in the bathroom!" texts.?

I have a babysitter for a few hours almost every day, where I cram every single thing in that I want to get done without kids around, which often times is just sitting quietly and eating alone.

But even then I'm still doing most meals. Most clean-ups. Most bedtimes and bathtimes. The picking up and putting away. Which I can do, I really can. But only for so long.?

I spent too long shaming myself for feeling this domestic claustrophobia that comes with being married to a pilot with kids in a big suburban house with family far away.

But as much as I want to believe that having four kids somehow changed me into a super human, it has not.?

And even though my husband does a lot and I have a babysitter and the cleaners come twice a month, I am not a super hero.?

I am who I was before I had kids.?The hard truth: On many days, I wish I wasn't.

Because maybe then I'd be able to make breakfast and lunch and dinner almost every day of the week without getting tired of it, or remain calm and patient after sitting in a dark room for an hour waiting for a baby to fall asleep for yet another night.?

"But I'm just me," I told my daughter one day, who thought mommies were perfect. "I'm sorry."

But no more. No fucking more.

I've been waiting for someone to hit reset for me, to give me permission or tell me or just force me for God sakes so it doesn't feel like I'm failing.?

But now I know that I just need to do it myself. Without apology. Or shame.?

I can't do it all and I don't want to.??

I'm human. And I'm super. Just not super human.?


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