Last night in an exhausted and probably hormonal state I wrote novel-length post about the joy in motherhood - or more appropriately, the lack thereof. Some of my wording was offensive to my sweet husband, it made him feel like a beast that makes me miserable, and that was far from my intent, so to him I am very sorry. I'd like to try again to candidly write about my feelings for posterity, and for any others that may read this that have been there at least once.
First, a few disclaimers.
1) This is pure honesty. No sugar coating here!
2) I love my kids like crazy. I love my husband even more.
3)I am happy and content with my life over all. I wouldn't change a thing, other than my outlook on it.
With those disclaimers done, I'd like to give a little background info that not just anyone may know.
1) I don't like babies much at all. I like to hold them for a few minutes, but then I am done. I can't hold one for hours, basking in it's sweetness. I am just not interested. I remember one babysitting job where all the kids I normally watched were in school, only the 3 month old baby was home. It took that baby an hour to drink his bottle and I had to sit on the couch holding him and feeding him for an hour. Most girls would consider that bliss. It made me tired, sore, bored, and frustrated that I couldn't get up.
2) I like children more the older they get. By the time they are preteens and most people start to lose interest in them, I am really starting to connect. Little kids are uber frustrating to me. Everywhere I go with my best friend, little children are drawn to her, like scrap metal cars to an electro-magnet in a junk yard. Seriously strangers just jump to her, and act like she is a long-lost aunt. I think I am invisible to most children. But when she and I went to Lagoon last summer, it was the preteens, the middle school kids that struck up conversations with me in the lines, she was invisible.
3) When I was young, a child and a teen, all I wanted out of life was motherhood. I wanted to play house for the rest of forever. I loved cooking, sewing, organizing, and babysitting (preferably older children). I knew IF I did college, it would just be for my family's profit, not for a career. That was my life's mission, all I hoped for.
4) It took a year and a half to pregnant with Em. We have now been trying almost two years for a third.
5) EVERY time I do something for me I pay a hefty price. I take too long in the bathroom doing my morning #2 and Emmy takes Nathan's medicine. I put on makeup to go out with a friend, Em eats her own poo (and pukes for the babysitter). I curl my hair before going to town, yogurt gets massaged into the wool rug. It goes on. Then I feel guilty and frustrated because none of that would have happened if I wasn't doing stuff for me.
6) NOTHING in this should indicate that I want to quit being a mom, or even that I want to go back to work to be "fulfilled" - That would be a joke, I'd only feel more tired, stressed and overwhelmed. That would equal LESS joy.
As a reminder, one of my 10 self improvement goals for the year is to find more joy in motherhood, to enjoy being with my kids more.
So here I am working on my goals, and I try to research "Joy In Motherhood" on LDS.org. I think that everyone who writes about it must either A) have been a man or B)have had all grown children, and can see life with little ones only through rose colored glasses. Aparently I am supposed to LOVE being a mom, LOVE little children, LOVE that all I do is wipe poop off of butts, pee off the floor, food off the stove, snot off the face, and frequently it's more like Poop off the floor, food off the floor, snot off the stove and the floor...and Puke off of EVRYTHING (Seriously, Nate is THE pukingest kid I know).
But I don't LOVE it, and it makes me feel guilty. I feel guilty because I only have two kids, and I can't make more, like everyone else just pops them out, one a year. I feel guilty because frequently I am glad I only have two. I feel guilty that I miss pretty, and appreciated, and intelligent Maren. I feel guilty that I don't like babies and little children. I feel guilty because I get SO stressed out by sick kids. I feel guilty because this is what I have ALWAYS wanted, ALL I have wanted, and now I know - it's, uh, less satisfying than I had hoped it would be. I feel guilty and selfish because I want to wear clothes that are unstained, have someone to recognize my expertise and have deep, intellectual conversations about history and literature with me. I want to exercise and work on writing my stories, to dress up and go someplace where fun doesn't mean a playground. I want to be good at something other than dishes, speaking toddlerese, and making PB&J. I feel guilty because I feel guilty about doing stuff for myself. Even taking the time to pee makes me feel guilty.
So what I want to know is: How do I change the way I feel about motherhood? How can I change the fact that I don't WANT to rock my baby to sleep? I want her to hurry up and grow up and put herself to bed, so I can enjoy her more? Or do I not try to change it, just accept it? Where is the joy, satisfaction, and fulfillment (other than looking back once they are grown)? How do I make more time so I can get what needs to be done around the house DONE, and have time to enjoy my kids AND have some time to do something for me? Where is the line between taking care of myself, and being selfish? How do I learn to love being with these children that I love, but don't always like? What do YOU do to feel joy when your kids are screaming and/or puking and/or not sleeping when you are dead tired?
First, a few disclaimers.
1) This is pure honesty. No sugar coating here!
2) I love my kids like crazy. I love my husband even more.
3)I am happy and content with my life over all. I wouldn't change a thing, other than my outlook on it.
With those disclaimers done, I'd like to give a little background info that not just anyone may know.
1) I don't like babies much at all. I like to hold them for a few minutes, but then I am done. I can't hold one for hours, basking in it's sweetness. I am just not interested. I remember one babysitting job where all the kids I normally watched were in school, only the 3 month old baby was home. It took that baby an hour to drink his bottle and I had to sit on the couch holding him and feeding him for an hour. Most girls would consider that bliss. It made me tired, sore, bored, and frustrated that I couldn't get up.
2) I like children more the older they get. By the time they are preteens and most people start to lose interest in them, I am really starting to connect. Little kids are uber frustrating to me. Everywhere I go with my best friend, little children are drawn to her, like scrap metal cars to an electro-magnet in a junk yard. Seriously strangers just jump to her, and act like she is a long-lost aunt. I think I am invisible to most children. But when she and I went to Lagoon last summer, it was the preteens, the middle school kids that struck up conversations with me in the lines, she was invisible.
3) When I was young, a child and a teen, all I wanted out of life was motherhood. I wanted to play house for the rest of forever. I loved cooking, sewing, organizing, and babysitting (preferably older children). I knew IF I did college, it would just be for my family's profit, not for a career. That was my life's mission, all I hoped for.
4) It took a year and a half to pregnant with Em. We have now been trying almost two years for a third.
5) EVERY time I do something for me I pay a hefty price. I take too long in the bathroom doing my morning #2 and Emmy takes Nathan's medicine. I put on makeup to go out with a friend, Em eats her own poo (and pukes for the babysitter). I curl my hair before going to town, yogurt gets massaged into the wool rug. It goes on. Then I feel guilty and frustrated because none of that would have happened if I wasn't doing stuff for me.
6) NOTHING in this should indicate that I want to quit being a mom, or even that I want to go back to work to be "fulfilled" - That would be a joke, I'd only feel more tired, stressed and overwhelmed. That would equal LESS joy.
As a reminder, one of my 10 self improvement goals for the year is to find more joy in motherhood, to enjoy being with my kids more.
So here I am working on my goals, and I try to research "Joy In Motherhood" on LDS.org. I think that everyone who writes about it must either A) have been a man or B)have had all grown children, and can see life with little ones only through rose colored glasses. Aparently I am supposed to LOVE being a mom, LOVE little children, LOVE that all I do is wipe poop off of butts, pee off the floor, food off the stove, snot off the face, and frequently it's more like Poop off the floor, food off the floor, snot off the stove and the floor...and Puke off of EVRYTHING (Seriously, Nate is THE pukingest kid I know).
But I don't LOVE it, and it makes me feel guilty. I feel guilty because I only have two kids, and I can't make more, like everyone else just pops them out, one a year. I feel guilty because frequently I am glad I only have two. I feel guilty that I miss pretty, and appreciated, and intelligent Maren. I feel guilty that I don't like babies and little children. I feel guilty because I get SO stressed out by sick kids. I feel guilty because this is what I have ALWAYS wanted, ALL I have wanted, and now I know - it's, uh, less satisfying than I had hoped it would be. I feel guilty and selfish because I want to wear clothes that are unstained, have someone to recognize my expertise and have deep, intellectual conversations about history and literature with me. I want to exercise and work on writing my stories, to dress up and go someplace where fun doesn't mean a playground. I want to be good at something other than dishes, speaking toddlerese, and making PB&J. I feel guilty because I feel guilty about doing stuff for myself. Even taking the time to pee makes me feel guilty.
So what I want to know is: How do I change the way I feel about motherhood? How can I change the fact that I don't WANT to rock my baby to sleep? I want her to hurry up and grow up and put herself to bed, so I can enjoy her more? Or do I not try to change it, just accept it? Where is the joy, satisfaction, and fulfillment (other than looking back once they are grown)? How do I make more time so I can get what needs to be done around the house DONE, and have time to enjoy my kids AND have some time to do something for me? Where is the line between taking care of myself, and being selfish? How do I learn to love being with these children that I love, but don't always like? What do YOU do to feel joy when your kids are screaming and/or puking and/or not sleeping when you are dead tired?
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