Exhaustion is overwhelming the emotion most commonly used to describe how I feel about being a mother. It’s likely also one of the most universally accepted, and probably anticipated characteristics about becoming a caretaker. You see, even if folks don’t talk about much, or you don’t become an over obsessed reading everything in sight, soon-to-be parent like I was, you have enough background knowledge to understand, or at least begin to consider that your life is about to change, and well- like any other change, this new normal will be difficult, and most likely, exhausting.
Without much effort you can see exhausted parents everywhere. I see exhausted parents sitting on a park bench, staring down at their phones, silently praying that this morning’s outing will provide them two-hours of solitude in the form of an afternoon nap. I see exhausted parents sprinting through grocery aisles, hoping to gather enough ingredients for an evening meal before their uninterested toddler becomes Godzilla. You know, where one quick sweep of their cute little arm clears the shelf of the neatly arranged seasonal display. I see exhausted parents finding the energy to cook a well-rounded meal, only to have your beloved three year old declare their inability to eat off the blue plate. (Of course, only moments ago they demanded their dinner be presented on that very color.) I see exhausted parents when, for the forty-seventh time in two hours, your child insists on being pushed on the swing, to build that tower, or to jump on you as if you were the world’s greatest jungle gym. I see exhausted parents trying to remember what a Saturday morning looked like before cartoons, snack bags and non-stop, around the clock activities. I see exhausted parents when beautiful Susie fights her nap, screams for the rest of the day and still seizes to succumb to the very sleep you are so desperate for, long after her predetermined story and bedtime.
So much in how we evolve as we enter into our title as a parent, becomes lost in the initial beauty of holding your perfect baby for the first time. We subscribe to the logic that because our identities added the title of parent, that we must now live completely different lives. For some, the traditional saying of having your child’s needs come before your own defines the way you do things, and in turn, the person you become- or the person you lose. So often we become entrenched with ensuring our child’s needs are met, that our minds are constantly flooded with thoughts about doing enough, or being enough. Contemplations like, did we enroll them in the right preschool, read them enough books, diversify their friends group, present them with opportunities to become independent, but still somehow balance the perfect amount of grace and accountability.
In doing all. the. things, the heart-stopping moments, the overwhelming sense of love becomes less enchanting and more engulfing. The days add up and slowly, as your perfect child’s needs stay the same, your need to be a person once again creeps up. You either adjust your life, and much like a circus act, find a way to make it all work, or- resentment, frustration and anger topple upon one another, just one small breeze away from completely crashing down. Either way, life as a parent is difficult to manage. One path of hard, happens to be fulfilling, while the other can be completely soul-sucking.
Society, your mom, maybe even well-intended cousins and friends, not so harshly, remind you that you choose this life, and while yes, Aunt Nancy, raising children is one of the most meaningful things you can do in your life, it also can be the most depleting. Like everything else, motherhood comes at a cost. In fact, it does not come as a surprise to me that divorce rates increase, as children enter the marriage. An act intended to create intimacy, breed closeness and overall increase love within the household, while in fact, has the capacity to do all of those things, also has the overwhelming ability to do the exact opposite. Raising children is hard, we all know that, but living through the hard- that’s the stuff so many people tip-toe around. Ultimately you get to decide your hard, but you might have to go against what you’re currently doing, or at least rethink your juggling act.
So, how the heck do people survive raising children? How do people not only raise well-mannered, self-sufficient humans, but also come out of the trenches fulfilled, happy and yes- still married?
My answers? Or at least what I am trying: intentionality and perspective. So much of what I have learned over the last seven years as I have transitioned over and over again, as a mother of four, is that again and again, I have to find the things that I enjoy doing, or being a part of with my family. This means that, despite what society, my Facebook feed, and yes, even Aunt Karen believes I should be doing, I am- with intention finding the joy in being a wife, the joy in being a mom, and yes- I am even finding the time to embrace the joy in being, well- me.
It took several years, and many bitter moments, but finally something clicked. I needed to intentionally find a way to enjoy my children. I need to, on purpose, engage in activities that provide my family with joy, woven in between the necessary responsibilities of being a mother.
One Saturday morning, I woke up and just accepted that my life no longer is run by me. What I’d like to accomplish, my schedule, especially on the weekends, do not belong to me, and well- as hard as I fought to keep the schedule and activities the way I wanted, there are now five other people who share this house and need my time. What was once looked at as relaxing, is now just another day where people depend on me. In fact- the weekends are now one of the most demanding days of the week. I tried, for many years, to keep my schedule and to-do list the same. I would run the same errands, tackle my craft projects during nap time, and get a sitter when we wanted to enjoy a night of karaoke. But, as we added kids, needs changed, and life happened, and well- doing what we’ve always done, just wasn’t that easy. The consistent rearranging and ever demanding weekends quickly bred exhaustion rather than rest and enjoyment. I began to look forward to Mondays far more than I did Saturdays.
Much like the way my husband talks about being a part of the football team, I knew that I needed to figure out a way to handle the practices, in order to enjoy the beauty of the Friday night lights. I needed to figure out a way to enjoy my children- a way to tackle the ever growing demands of our weekends, but also go to bed Sunday night feeling love and accomplishment, rather than grateful for less responsibility, or at least fewer children to care for, on Monday morning.
I needed to change both my perspective, and the way I was choosing to spend my time.
So slowly, with intention, I began both mentally and physically writing a list of things that provide me genuine joy while being with my kids. Yes, I actually wrote down the activities that I enjoy doing with my children. It seems crazy, but stick with me. The list gives me something concrete to fall back on in moments of frustration, exhaustion and even distress.
Here is a glimpse into my list, and the moments I find genuine happiness as a mom:
- Reading stories
- Riding water slides
- Dance parties
- The pumpkin patch
- Watching our kids use their imagination while exploring a park
- Going on a walk
- Laughing with their cousins
- Friday night movies with ice cream
- Walking through a museum
- Building sand castles
- Kicking a soccer ball in the backyard
- Having small conversations about big things
- Making smiley face pizzas
- Rock-paper-scissors
- Board game (specifically, Crazy Toaster or Uno)
Much like football practice, the grind of parenting, well, even -adulting, is necessary. You have to pay the bills, make the dinners and clean the toilets. You also have to navigate tantrums, teach gratitude and insist on nightly spelling word practice. It all matters. Yet, when focusing only on the necessary- when we only reach to just get by, we sometimes forget the reason we became parents; the reason our heart nearly explodes every time we see our precious child sleeping. We each forget, at times, to find the joy- to work, with intention to do the things you actually enjoy doing with your child. To focus on the thrill of the game, rather than the grind of the practice.
While, at times, forcing (and yes, sometimes it does feel forced), yourself to get off the couch, put your phone down, and engage your child(ren) in an activity from your list, is so much like working out; the hardest part is starting. So many of the decisions you make, and the way you choose to spend time with your kids, will shape the people they become and the relationship that you’ll have later.
At least weekly, I remind myself that children that are listened to, become teenagers that want to share. I remember that the friendship I want with my adult children are foundationally established when they are small kids. Finding the time to experience the joy, even amidst the challenge is what allows us to embrace the exhaustion, and show up- with a smile, time and time again.
Motherhood is hard. Finding the joy, intentionally doing things you like, will not take away the storm, but it will work to better equip you with the mental stability to withhold the difficult moments.
Create the joy-every. single. day. Do it like your family’s life depends on it, because- well, it kind of does.
Three Princes and a Sweet Pea 