I’m writing this at 10pm on Thursday night. Is it desperate or pathetic to be sitting here eating spoonfuls of peanut-butter covered with semi-sweet chocolate chips while washing it down with a cheap Trader Joe’s $3 Shiraz? (White Trash enough for you Katie O.?) I’d like to blame it on being the end of a very long week or just “one of those days” but unfortunately that seems to be a recurring theme. When is it not “one of those days”?
It’s finally Friday, and I proudly flip-off my recent pity parties, or at least the idea that they are pity parties. Let’s face it ladies, motherhood is hard and sometimes there are days that we would like to just put on our warmest fleece pajamas and crawl back in bed. Some days it feels like there hasn’t been enough time to breathe, let alone sleep. Add a traveling husband to the mix and suddenly you are a married, single mother, trying to juggle the normal everyday schedule and figure out how to make everything else work when you are short a driver and another pair of hands. And when you think you are venting to what you assumed is a safe haven, an understanding ear, and are met with “at least your husband has a job” it stings. You feel guilty to be frustrated and that you are just a whiny stay-at-home-mom who is having a pity party. But I’m here to tell you – pour that cheap wine and party all you want because it’s healthy! I wave a big shiny, yellow, Mr. Clean smelling rubber gloved hand to all of you “perfect moms” who never complain, not once, because I know you are dying inside about something. Keeping everything bottled up breaks down your spirit, your patience and your creativity. It festers until you explode or become resentful. I need to know that I’m not the only one that cries in the car on the way home from another stinkin’ soccer carpool because I can’t believe how much laundry and dirty dishes are waiting for me at home or that it’s okay to take a little bit longer shower than necessary just so that you can have a few minutes more to yourself. I need to understand that it doesn’t make me a bad mom to cringe when I hear, “Mom, I threw up a little at school. Can I come home?” or that I’m not neglecting my duties when I make my 12 1/2 year-old do her own laundry because she refuses to put away her own clothes and “live” out of the basket. I need to be assured that I do enjoy my children even when I wish they would just.stop.talking.
Two middle finger salutes to this crazy idea that husband’s babysit while moms parent. What is that? It is hard to believe, but there are still people who say things like, “It’s so nice that your husband is letting you go out of town again.” First of all, there is no letting going on here – we make these decisions together based on finances, schedules, availability, etc. Unfortunately, there are times that leaving town is more difficult than others, so I must thank profusely my mother-in-law for coming up from Texas to help out while I was gone last week. But if you are home 24/7, you need to leave at some point so that you don’t eventually hurt someone. Moms don’t clock out at the end of the day. When our husbands travel, we make the arrangements to fill in the cracks. When moms travel (or even go out for the night), we still have to make sure there is someone to fill in the cracks, that dinner is on the table and that laundry has been done. So yes, sometimes I need a break. From everything.
I love my husband, I love my kids and I love my life but that doesn’t mean that some days aren’t just hard, and in desperate need of some cheap wine and a little pity party. It’s like exfoliating my soul – scrubbing clean the remnants of the day and releasing all the toxin from my heart. Purging so that I can start the next day refreshed. I’m not wallowing in self-pity, just wading in it a little.
And that’s all I have to say about that.