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World’s Okayest Moms

Can we talk about the anxiety that comes with Motherhood? The constant worry. The ever-present nagging feeling that you’re forgetting something. The second-guessing and wondering if you’re doing a good enough job, or if you’re completely screwing your kids up. The overwhelming love that can sometimes leave you breathless when you look at those little people. The constant worrying. The self-reproach that comes with wishing they’d shut the hell up. The need for alone time, to not be touched or spoken to. The guilt for feeling like you need that time, and missing them when you do get away.

The confusion that comes with all of the rules, recommendations, and new research on this and that and this and how-the-hell-have-I-even-managed-to-keep-them-alive-this-far?! The. Constant. Worrying. The to-do lists that dance around in your head as you try to be present with your kids. The sadness that comes with the realization that they grow up so fast and one day you might regret choosing laundry over quality time, but oh my God, the laundry does have to get done, you know. The guilt of being a working mom who doesn’t get to see her children as much as she’d like. The guilt of being a stay-at-home mom who wonders if the time she’s spending with them is sufficient to make up for the financial cut-backs required to have a one-salary family. The way your brain races to keep up with the crying baby and the demanding 5-year-old and the husband who needs to ask you another question and the dinging cell phone and all the noise.

Is it enough? Is it too much? Am I enough?

The pure exhaustion you feel at the end of the day, even once your babies are consistently sleeping all night long. The need for quiet every evening that leaves you staying up far later than you know you should. Being talked to and talked at and questioned and pulled and pulled and pulled and the demands that really can wait even though they sometimes feel like they cannot.

Holy shit y’all, motherhood is hard. I don’t care how you do it, what decisions you make regarding how to bring them into this world in the first place or whether or not you should work or what or how to feed them or whether to let them cry it out or what preschool to send them to or how long you should rearface them or your approach to discipline or where they should sleep or or or….

It does not matter if you’re Type A or Type B or Type I-Don’t-Give-A-Flying-Fart. It. Is. Hard. And nobody can adequately express this to you before you have a child of your own. Nobody can quite convey how you will feel all the things and how all of your feelings will contradict one another and some days (or weeks) you’ll feel like you may lose your mind. Or like maybe you’ve already lost it. Or like you’re a complete failure. And other days you’ll feel like you’ve aced this Motherhood thing. But most days you’ll just chug on through and another few months will pass before you even realize that you’ve managed to survive and you’ve managed to keep your kids alive and mostly happy, even when you aren’t sure where the time went or how you did it.

These children, they’re exhausting. They tempt me and test me and push me to every limit I never knew existed. I don’t know if I’m always enough, and I do know that I often fail them.

But I also know that I’m the best mama for them and my God how I love these gorgeous, smart, funny, kind mama’s boys of mine with everything I have.

I am the World’s Okayest Mom. I’m alright.

 

One comment on “World’s Okayest Moms

  1. I’m the world’s okayest mom… No truer words. I needed this today, so thank you.

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