Get Real

I have had something on my mind a lot lately. It is probably more bad than good, but I want to put it in writing anyway. 

I love being a mom, don't get me wrong. It is the main job I have wanted since I was a little girl and always knew I wanted children; and after having many friends and acquaintances that have not had the easiest time making that happen, I feel very blessed that Ryan and I are able to have babies with no trouble at all. (I am not bragging - after two miscarriages back to back, there was a period of time I was not sure it was going to be easy for us.) 

But being a mom is HARD. REALLY hard sometimes. 

There is no more "sleeping in". I got up at 7 AM a few days ago and said to Ryan, "It was so nice to sleep in today until 7.....didn't think I would ever call 7 AM sleeping in." 

The house is never clean. Ever. Example: I washed the stainless steel of my refrigerator/freezer yesterday for the second time in the almost four years we have been in this house. Not more than 90 seconds later, both girls had left fingerprints and Brianna was licking the door. Same thing happens with our sliding glass door. I am constantly picking things up and the things the babies don't mess up (bathrooms, dust, dishes) is often left way too long because there is just not enough time to get it done without it being stressful.

Walking. Not the easiest anymore because there is always somebody in front of or behind me, just asking to be tripped over.

Free/alone time. Doesn't exist, not even in the shower or the bathroom. Well, mostly. In the evenings I have a few hours between when they go to bed and I go to bed, and that is very nice. I love those hours. 

I miss sleeping through the night every night. For months on end. When that starts happening again I will be a new woman.

If I don't want the girls to eat a particular item then neither can I until they are in bed. This means hours without chocolate.

Crying. Whining. Screaming. Temper-tantruming. Teething. Throwing up. Poop. Blood.

Getting out the door is an ordeal. I remember one time when Brianna was just a month or two old that I needed to go to the grocery store. I wanted to try to go before lunch. Brianna woke up from her nap, I changed her, and then wanted to rush out the door so we could get back. But she needed to nurse, which took 30 minutes. Then Maya pooped so I had to change her diaper. Then Brianna spit up ALL over both of us so I had to change our clothes. An hour later it was too late to try to go. Nowadays it takes usually about 20-30 minutes to get out once I decide to go somewhere, and there is no such thing as leaving on a whim. Snacks, drinks, potty run, shoes, diaper change, where are my keys?!... Don't ask me to be on time to anything in the next 5 years please.

Don't even get me started on church.

Ok ok ok. I just sound like an ungrateful woman who needs to vent. And maybe that's all it is. There are so many people posting on Facebook about how wonderful their children are ("yes, it's hard, but I wouldn't change it for the world!"). I recently posted a past memory of when I was 25 weeks pregnant with Maya and had the caption: Before I knew what motherhood was all about. A friend asked if I would go back. I thought about saying what people would expect me to say and act like my life is glorious and shiny and perfect. But I didn't. I said yes, sometimes I would. And it's true. There are times that I want to just get to sit down and read or watch a movie or paint my nails or, or, or, or. Many trivial things, but yes, I miss it. 

But there are things I would miss infinitely more if I did not have my children anymore.

Things like

their sweet smiles,

having experienced (and enjoyed immensely) pregnancy,

their unknowing beauty,

shopping trips (which I do enjoy, it's getting out the door that is hard sometimes),

kissing their owies better,

giving birth and the perfection of newborns,

introducing my girls for the first time and knowing that they would love each other forever,

darling sleeping baby noises,

moments like this:,

seeing their girly side come through,

sharing traditions like drinking hot chocolate when it snows,

the endless snuggles,

teaching them to love holidays, 

lazy Sundays at home watching football,

listening to Maya read to Brianna,

vacations that wear them out so much that they just fall asleep in the middle of the floor, 

seeing them do cute and smart things,

teaching them to try new foods and watching them learn independence when it comes to eating,

spending time in the evening just hanging out,

going on runs with the best company in the world seated comfortably in my double jogger stroller,

ridiculously adorable little girl clothes,

hearing them laugh,

cooking and cleaning together (I have no photos of it, but Brianna enjoys "helping" me clean up after dinner and Maya is great at picking up her toys and helping to set the table for dinner),

their birthdays,

wearing my babies as often as I can, 

and everything else about them.

Do not fear. I am not an unfit mother and I love my babies more than life itself. But there are times, every know and then, a quick moment here and there, that life would be easier on my own. I think that is understandable to all other moms out there who are willing to Get Real. 

Now it is time to get to bed because 7 AM will be here before I know it. But not before I get that dessert I have been putting off all day.