I try pretty hard to take care of everybody around here, Queefies.
I wake up in the morning with an overwhelming list of things to do and NONE of them are for myself. My life, my entire existence, revolves around taking care of my family and making sure everyone has what they need. I literally have zero time to myself. Even when I’m exercising, I have to pause the DVD about 6 times in 20 minutes (I counted) to tend to somebody, but I do it because it’s all that stands between me and a blaze of glory. My husband has time to read, and participate in message boards, and play video games, and take pictures of everything, but I’m wearing three- week- old toe nail polish. I’ve been trying to find time to at least take it off for two weeks, but I just don’t have it. I look down at my feet and I just want to cry.
But you know, I take care of them all because I love them so much. I want them to be happy and well cared for. I married this man, and I made these children. It’s my job to love them and care for them.
What breaks my heart is that on most days, they hate me. I have this beautiful family that I love so much, but I’m the loneliest person in the world sometimes.
Take this morning, for example. Mister hates me for wanting to strip our bed so we can hang our sheets out to dry before it rains for the next 3 days. There’s something wrong with me for wanting to do this.
Girlfriend hates me for refusing to let her wear a dress that’s two sizes too small to school. Later, she’ll hate me for brushing her hair and for making her breakfast, and for asking her to brush her teeth and put her shoes on.
On most days, I end up crying out of utter frustration because everything I do is a battle.
I remember my mother going through this same thing every day. I remember her crying her heart out in her room and I vowed never to be like her and now I am. I am just like my mother.
I’m the bitch in the house.
Is this what it’s about? Is this what motherhood is?
Am I doing it wrong?
I didn’t think it would be like this.
I thought that if I tried my hardest every day and took very good care of everyone, we’d all be happy.
But instead, Mommy is a bad person who makes us brush our teeth and sleep on clean sheets. We should yell at her and tell her to go away and tell her she’s crazy and tell her we hate her and we don’t want her.
I think I need to go away for a while and let them fend for themselves.
And right now, Homeslice is cruising around the play room pointing to things and asking “wassis?” She came across one of Girlfriend’s dolls sitting in a little shopping cart and I told her “it’s a baby.” She picked it up and snuggled it and said something that sounded very much like “mother.”
How fucking cute is that?
This is why I do it, I guess. It’s because of moments like that that I stick around and keep trying.
This motherhood thing is quite a ride, you guys.