Why I really hate being a mom…

Being a mom is one tough job. Like, unbelievably tough. I hate this job. Don’t get me wrong though, I absolutely LOVE my kids, and I don’t love them any less because I hate being a mom. It’s just a weird effect from actually becoming a loving parent.

But seriously, that being said, I really fucking hate being a mom. Here’s why.

It requires an unbelievable amount of patience. I knew that becoming a mom meant staying up late, at all hours of the night when they are first born. I also knew it meant changing diapers, one right after the other. I knew it meant teaching them absolutely everything, from putting on socks, to brushing their teeth, to having some manners like saying “please” and “thank you”. What I didn’t know was just how much patience all of that required. I mean, you hear it all the time, “Wow! <Insert number of kids> kids. You must have a lot of patience!” We laugh it off or roll our eyes, and then move on. But last Friday night I was standing at the Costco check-out lane, all by myself, no kids, on my way to a friend’s birthday dinner. Meanwhile in the lane next to me I saw a mom with four kids. Four. Freaking. Kids. Her kids were overall not a huge disaster (at that moment). Her youngest kid was about 7 months old sitting in the cart, meanwhile the other three were dancing around on the other side as the cart was being loaded with their items (ages probably from 3-7). I just stood there, smiling at the baby, and then just thought, “Gosh, I wish I had the patience for four kids. Shoot, I wish I had the patience for the two kids I already have. How does she do it?” How does she do it? How do do it? I honestly can’t answer that. I wish I could, but even all of the patience I thought I had to handle my two kids, it’s still not enough. I lose my mind almost daily.

You lose so much sleep. I feel that during the first year, it’s pretty much a given that you will never sleep a full nights rest again. It’s absolutely true. If a fellow mommy tries to tell you that her baby sleeps through the night, I call bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. During that first year you might get a few long stretches, but overall, you won’t get a full nights rest. Nursing, or formula feeding, doesn’t make a difference, your child will be drastically different from any previous child you may already have, and absolutely different from the neighbors child, and your best friends child. So do you a favor and just realize that sleep will come and go because your baby is growing. Your newborn is hungry. Your toddler’s body is adapting to so many fucking things. So sleep will eventually come, but don’t expect it anytime soon, and ask for help. Call a friend, make a nap trade with a fellow mom, whatever works best for you, but just ask for help. I personally struggle with asking for help, even if it’s to get in a few extra z’s, but I have learned that that’s truly the only way I will ever get some decent rest.

You have to miraculously care for yourself somewhere in between caring for multiple little people. This ties in with sleep. Like sleep, you won’t get much time to care for yourself in multiple areas of your life. Time is a fucking gift. You will find yourself struggling to get in a shower back to back days. You will struggle to figure out a workout schedule between your child’s nap schedule, and wanting to keep up with your ever growing pile of dishes and laundry. If you work, or stay at home, finding the time to take care of yourself while raising kids is just SO. DAMN. HARD. I hate being a mom because my priority to care for me comes second to caring for them. Which truly is a sick cycle because in order to care for them you have to care for yourself. See my headache? 

There’s no way to prepare for this job. I was watching Grey’s Anatomy last night (season 6, episode 19: “Sympathy for the Parents) and at the very end of the episode, Dr. Meredith Grey does a voice over, and she says, “It is the most important job in the world. You probably should have a license to do it. But even then, most of us wouldn’t even pass the written exam.”  I couldn’t agree more. Most of us wouldn’t pass the written exam. There are some basic no-no’s in parenting, like don’t let them play with matches, but overall, there is no one right way to raise a child. Even within your own home, you can’t raise one child exactly the same as the other. There is simply no way to prepare for this job. For me, that part sucks the most. No amount of advice or books can prepare you for all of this. This written piece I’m writing right now, yeah, not even this will help you prepare for motherhood. I hate this part of the job the most, because you can try all you want to prepare yourself, but becoming a mom is the epitome of “learning on the job”.  Every day is different. Even with set schedules and routines, every single day that you wake up as a mom, and begin to parent your child(ren), it’s different, and you will always be under prepared.

When you become a mom, it changes you. Not all change is physical, although a great deal of physical change will happen, that’s not what I’m referring to here.  And not all change is bad, for the most part; I like to believe that I have become a better person since I have become a mom. Each child has made me a better person at that too. With that said, it doesn’t make changing that much easier. The process of losing yourself is still incredibly hard. You will find yourself wondering about the many “what if’s”. You will find yourself crying at night thinking about who you used to be, and how that person no longer exists. Just know that when you hit this point, it’s okay to be a little angry, and it’s okay to be a little sad. It’s what you do with this change that makes a difference. If you’re not who you used to be, are you happy with who you are today? If you’re not happy, then do what you can and work on it. Becoming a mom changed me multiple times. I have had 4 pregnancies, and only have 2 children here with me. That has rocked my world to my very core, but that’s when I’ve changed the most. That’s when I learned I could love even more. 

I hate being a mom because when you become a mom, you really don’t know what you are getting yourself into. For many moms (1 in 4), that includes burying your child before they ever got to feel your warm hug. It means, worrying about simple mundane things that you would have never thought about needing to worry about. Locally where I live, 3 months ago a mother and her 2 year old daughter were standing on the crosswalk, waiting for their turn to cross the road. A sad unfortunate accident happened at that very place and time, and one of the cars jumped the curb. The mother was with minor injuries, but her daughter was no longer alive. I cried for days. My son was the same age as her daughter, and the mother was my age. I have never thought about fearing walking on the sidewalk, much less waiting at a stop light. I never thought that I would have to worry about my daughter getting bullied at school, or worrying about her teacher not allowing her to each lunch because she didn’t finish her schoolwork on time. (None of these have happened to us, but they have happened to other children/families.) My children are 7 years old and under. I can’t even begin to imagine what the teenage years will look like. Ugh. So many things that shouldn’t happen, happen, and there is simply no way to prepare for that. I hate this part of the job too.

And trust me, I don’t hate being a mom because it’s not about not appreciating motherhood. Having lost two pregnancies, and knowing the feeling of longing to hold a child I will never be able to hold, I absolutely appreciate motherhood. I hate being a mom, but I also love being their mom. I love my two children endlessly. I love them so much, I hate my job. Am I making sense? Because, although I was furious this morning, and I yelled at my daughter (and my husband over text) before making her breakfast, I was furious because the house was a complete disaster. I was upset at just how much crap I have to clean up that I simply ran out of patience today. I was stressed from not sleeping much last night. I was upset that I didn’t know who I was anymore to have allowed myself to go to bed without checking if the living room was picked up last night before I fell asleep. I was overwhelmed by the mile high pile of laundry waiting to be put away, knowing that I still had a load in both the washer and the dryer waiting for me. I was just so upset because I recognized that all of these things were still things I needed to consider as blessings. That even though I didn’t like any of what was going on, I still have to appreciate it all. “At least I have my children alive and healthy. At least I have dishes and clothes to clean up. At least I have a broom to sweep with, and sweatpants to wear. At least I get to stay home and help and watch my son develop and grow.”  I hate being a mom not because I don’t appreciate being a mom, but honestly, because sometimes being a mom is too much to handle, and sometimes it’s hard to regulate self-appreciation when being a mom is just who you are and outsiders don’t realize that moms need daily appreciation.

So let me end my rant with this: I hate being a mom because it is the most demanding job in the world. It is incomparable to any other job, whether you are single, in a steady relationship, working, or staying at home. Rich or poor, being a mom fucking sucks. But, it is the most rewarding job once your child says “momma” for the first time. The joy that you get from your child walking for the first time erases the nights of no sleep all those month up until that point. The birthday you get to celebrate with them is one more than a fellow mom had hoped for. When your child hurts themselves and looks for you to comfort them, it reinforces your incredible worth and magical healing powers with a kiss on their boo-boo. I hate being a mom because of how stressed out I am daily, but that stress is there because I have so much love for such a small little person.

Cleaning up the same mess over and over again is annoying, and being a mom means dealing with repetition, but one day, it’ll all go away. One day we will yearn for these small years again, which really makes me hate being a mom even more.

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