Sunday, October 23, 2016

Sinking Into Motherhood


It sounds bad.

It sounds like giving up.

But what about sinking into bed? Sinking onto the couch? Sinking into a pile of fresh snow? Those bring about warm feelings and happy thoughts. Right?

By Thursday this week, when I snuck out of bed so as not to wake the four-year-old who had climbed in an hour earlier, all I could think about was the weekend, when I could sink into motherhood, when I could unabashedly...MOM.

Despite the fact that, on paper at least, I don't care what other people think of me, I do want people want to be around me. I'm painfully aware of not wanting to be the one who can't do anything because, "We know you have kids."  I constantly redirect the conversation: well, so and so has triathlons to train for, and the other one has like 100 weddings to go to this year, and that one has cooking lessons, and why can't we all just agree to leave campus on time regardless of whether or not we have kids?

I talk about my kids all the time. Like, all the time. But I'm hyper aware of when I'm doing it. I have this little voice that pops in my head, "YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT YOUR KIDS AGAIN. STOP."

My male coworker has a daughter the same age as my daughter.  He unabashedly showcases photos of her and talks about the cute things she does, and everyone thinks it's adorable and sweet, and like the best thing ever for a dad to talk about his kids that way. I do it?  "Cute."  And the conversation moves on. Ah, I see.

Don't get me wrong, I've got some amazing coworkers who know all about our kindergarten search and when I don't sleep at night, but I have this sense that I have to constantly prove that I can still do my job even though I'm a mom.

On the weekends? On school breaks?

I mom so hard.

I play Legos. I go grocery shopping. This weekend I made cookies and I made pancakes.  I try to put my phone away and focus on my kids. I listen to the same crazy kids songs around 181 times.  And I love it.

Then Monday comes, and I feel like I'm supposed to turn that off.

I don't. I can't go twenty minutes outside of the classroom without mentioning at least one of my kids...

But I feel like I should.

So, starting tomorrow, just one more new change in me.

Bless it.

Release it.

No more guilt about being a mom.

I can't change that I'm a working mom.

I  can't change that my mind, my body, and my soul have changed in countless ways since having kids.

I suspect I'll feel a whole let better about life.

But come Friday? Oh, friend, I'm backwards on the diving board free falling into a pool of mommyhood.

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