I don’t write much about this thing
called “motherhood”; this thing that consumes ninety nine percent of my time,
energy, and effort. I periodically touch upon it in my writing, but generally
avoid making it my main topic for a couple of reasons. First, I never wanted to
be a mommy blogger. Starting my blog, I felt, and still feel, that writing
solely about motherhood limited my writing. I wanted my blog to be a place to
discuss varied topics, recall varied memories; a place to express varied emotions.
Second, being a mommy consumes the majority of my life. I wanted, when creating
my blog, a place, a space, to express that part of me that is wholly separate
from “mommyhood.” A place to recapture “me.”
On a day
like today, however, when being a mother feels more like a burden than a joy,
my reasoning for avoiding that which consumes seems flawed and ridiculous.
Homeschooling Lucy, on top of constantly managing Lily-Anne’s diabetes, has
left me unusually drained. Today, I feel like running away, but seriously lack
the energy and motivation to do so; an unstoppable treadmill ensues. I run. I
tire. I keep going out of necessity, even though my greatest desire is to stop
moving my feet and fall flat on my face in surrender.
I feel like
kicking Sleeping Beauty’s ass out of bed, putting up a “Do NOT Disturb” sign
and sleeping for 100 years. I feel like kicking my own ass in an attempt to
jump-start my motivation. Unfortunately, I don’t have the physical, mental, or
emotional energy to do so. I feel like fleeing, screaming, crying, and
collapsing in a monumental tantrum of two-year-old proportions. I feel like
curling myself into a protective ball and blocking out the world. Hibernation
seems like a good option, since I don’t even have the energy to eat.
The problem I face is that two little girls
depend upon me. Two little girls depend upon me, for not only their physical
needs, but also their mental growth (literally their education), and emotional well
being. I have two little girls seeking love and affection. I have two little
girls who need a mommy, one who is present and able.
Unfortunately,
I often forget or forgo my own needs in order to meet theirs. Like all mothers,
I wish I could be everything to them, to everyone, but end up right back in
this place of emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion when I attempt to do
so.
So how do I
solve my problem? How do I get of this speeding treadmill long enough to
recover? The absence of family, a support system, makes my struggle more
difficult. My exhaustion hinders finding and implementing a solution to my
problem.
So instead,
I focus on a moment. The moment Lucy told me Lily watches too many Arm and
Hammer commercials because she (Lily) told me that loving her meant I was big
and strong. I laugh. I laugh because Lucy is funny, and I laugh because of the
truth behind Lily’s words. Loving my children does mean I am big and strong,
especially during my weakest moments, on my most difficult days.
