There’s this meme going around the internet, “We get 18 delicious summers with our children. This is one of your 18. If that’s not perspective, I don’t know what is.”. My initial reaction to this quote was warm fuzzies, because of course I love, love, love my kiddos and I want to thoroughly enjoy each and every moment with them. After the third or fourth time I passed it while scrolling, I started to feel a bit of shame and sadness. Sometimes motherhood sucks. Should I be finding a way to pep talk myself into loving each and every moment? Am I failing as a mother because there are times that I really, really don’t enjoy parenting?
Personally, I wouldn’t call summers “delicious”
Living in the south, summer is the season of drowning just breathing the air, the season of not being able to find shorts short enough to stay cool, and nudity is frowned upon.
Living in the south, summer means heat and humidity, and I am not really a fan of either.
Add to the heat the task of preparing meals that if nutritionally sound, will not be eaten without argument.
Add to the heat the task of teaching tiny humans how to navigate their emotions, and how to express said emotions so that they may learn to live in relation to other humans.
Add to the heat the task of cleaning up after the cat 5 hurricane that is childhood, as it levels my house day after day.
And of course, I can’t forget the cajoling or mom voicing that must occur as I teach these little humans to clean up their own shit. We’ve all met adults that missed that lesson, and I am raising better people than that.
Sometimes motherhood sucks.
But my kids, my kids… I’m their number one fan.
My kids taught me what the fuck love even is.
No, I’m not always in love with motherhood…
But yes, parenting is magical and beautiful and I am so lucky to have these lil humans in my life.
The years are so short and fly by so fast…
This is all so very true.
But equally true is the fact that some days my kids are total a-holes, and all I really want is a cold beer and some quiet moments without their adorable dirt covered faces or their sweet lil screechy voices.
There are days where it’s totally easy to love this whole parenting gig, and every little thing about my wee ones.
Then there are the days that I manage to survive by daydreaming of what life would be like without children.
All of that disposable income.
All of those uninterrupted hours of sleep.
Raising a human from tiny helpless potato through adolescence is a monumental task…
And it’s totally fucking o.k. if sometimes I’m tired, or frustrated, or god forbid I have a day where I really hate being a mom!
Yes, the days are long but the years are short and I am going to miss it all so very much when it’s gone.
But really guys, it’s 18 fucking years at least. There’s plenty of time for me to love the shit outta my kids and be grateful that I get to share this life with them, AND to honor my own experience of motherhood.
Sometimes honoring that experience means being real with myself about the times that I am actually not really enjoying it.
Sometimes honoring that experience means being real with myself about the need to take a break, to fill my cup, to engage in some serious acts of self-love.
Sometimes, your well intentioned memes wind up shaming me into believing that I am not good enough.
Isn’t that what Pinterest is for?
How’s that for perspective?