There are lots of things that I’m afraid of. Lately, it’s that I’m not stacking up as a mother to Joshua. Or that I’ll never fit into my regular clothes again, never mind anything smaller than that.
I’m also afraid of my feet hanging over the edge of the bed, getting poop on my hands (though vom–real vom, not spit up– doesn’t bother me), being buried alive, and running out of coffee (or wine).
But the thing that I’m afraid to say out loud, the thing that scares the shit out of me most, is that I cannot do it all myself. Sometimes I need help and I find it nearly impossible to ask for it when I need it.
I thought about this post for three days. What would I say? Would I be silly? Serious? Both?
I wanted to write that I’ve been afraid to say that I’m coping well emotionally and mentally with being a mom to two. Sure, there are moments when I want to run screaming for the nearest bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (or Tahiti. Whichever.) but that most of the time, things are good.
That I am good.
And then days like this one happen.
Joshua’s up early. Emma won’t be put down. She spits up all over everything, including her brother, prompting two clothing changes before my first cup of coffee. He’s whiny. She’s fussy. I’m starving and can’t eat breakfast because everything involving either of them requires both of hands.
She falls asleep just as he needs me to wipe his butt and putting her down to take care of him means she’s awake and I’m starting the process all over again.
And the giant lump of Overwhelmed climbs up into my throat and threatens tears.
Then the doctor’s office happened today, which isn’t a normal occurrence, thank God. Nurse Lemon-Face-Who-Maybe-Hates-Kids is bothered by Joshua’s curiosity and need for me. Which annoys me. But I’m not annoyed with her.
I find that I’m annoyed with him because he needs so much of my attention. That he needs validation from me for the things he’s saying and doing. He doesn’t just need it. He demands it. And I’m downright irritated about it.
The nurse practitioner asks how I’m doing and I force out a clipped “I’m…managing” with a glance behind me at Joshua who is asking me another question and beside me to Emma who is screaming on the table.
And then another lump climbs up. This one is named Guilt, cousin to Self-Loathing who has also joined in the attempt to make me cry. I’m guilty because what kind of mother gets annoyed with her child for needing her attention? And then I hate myself a little bit for both feeling guilty and for being annoyed.
After doing my best to pay attention to her appointment and to his need for approval, I was spent. And when Emma got her shots and cried, I sobbed all over that exam table.
I sobbed and apologized. For her physical pain, for neglecting him, for hating myself.
Dan stopped in after lunch today and planned to go back to work for the afternoon. I’d gotten Emma to sleep in the Rock-n-Play. I’d put Joshua down for a nap without a fuss. My emotions were settling. And then the dog laid down on the leg of the Rock-n-Play and woke Emma up and I said words that would make my mama blush and then sobbed some more.
I sobbed that I wanted to be normal. I want to be able to handle days like today and shrug them off more easily than I do.
I want to remember to “Finish each day” like I tell so many other women to do.
I told Dan I needed him to stay home this afternoon and he did. That was huge for me, both the asking and the having him here. He took Emma for a drive and I got to lay down by myself for some rest. When they got back and I woke up, I felt better. A little more centered.
I need help y’all. I can’t do it all by myself. And that’s the thing I’m most afraid to tell anyone.
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A special thanks to Jess Constable and Ez of Creature Comforts for encouraging honest dialogue about the things, big and small, that we’re afraid to tell. And thanks to Robin for hosting the link-up. You can link up at Robin’s blog, Farewell Stranger, if you’ve got something to share.
Girl. I wanna still live in Florida. That way, I’d hop in the car up to Georgia and bring you wine… And coffee so you never run out. Thanks for saying it out loud. Sometimes… Well, often, I cry when I get overwhelmed after trying to do it all myself and I am really bad at asking Chris- the husband- for help even though I know I should. No, we can’t do it all alone. I’m here with you.
Oh, I’m so a crier. So. Glad to know I’m not alone.
I had a tiny percentage of what you just describe happen to me today (my kid threw his first public mini-tantrum) and I was positive I was a) the worst mom ever and b) well, just the worst mom ever. Thank you so much for sharing this and for being an example of it being ok to ask for help. Seriously, thank you.
Tantrums are bastards. 🙁
But, we survive. That’s the good news.
Knowing yourself well enough to know when you need for help and then overcoming pride and perfectionism to do it are huge and reasons to celebrate. You are surviving. You are caring for your kids. Right now that’s all that should be on your plate.
Portion control is hard, in parenting AND dieting. But yes, I’m surviving. We’re all surviving.
Being a mom of two is HARD. There are days I called Clint sobbing because I just couldn’t do it. The great thing is those days get less and less and then one day they are magically playing (well, and fighting) together and you can sit at the kitchen table with your laptop and coffee and watch them and think “FINALLY!” 🙂
I keep telling myself that she grows up. She will only be this little and demanding for so long and eventually, they’ll be able to interact with each other. Eventually.
So hard to move from one to two (or three in my case). People say it gets easier but I think it just becomes a different kind of hard. I have so many days I go to bed with regret and guilt but I also know that I am not perfect and tomorrow is a new day (said in my best scarlet o’hara voice). Hang in there. Thanks for sharing and the honesty!
YES! A different kind of hard. Going from zero to one was hard. This is hard, too, but different.
Tomorrow IS a new day, and that’s a beautiful thing.
As a mom of four kids…(who hates coffee but has a serious love affair with wine) I LOVE your honesty. Who are we kidding? We all have days like this but we sure don’t want to admit it cause that would be admitting….’we need help’ ugh. You totally hit the nail on the head! I’ve been stalking your posts for awhile, figured I should finally speak up and be less of a creeper:)
I have a love affair with coffee AND wine. 🙂
Thanks for speaking up! Glad you’re here.
Oh yes. I know this feeling all too well. Why can’t I handle it when other moms seem to be able to? I’ve asked myself that SO many times, and I only have one so far. God help me when the second comes.
I beat myself up over this a lot, and it makes it hard for me to ask for help. I’m so glad you did though, and that having Dan stay home got you through that day. All I can think in those moments is that it won’t last forever. (Ah, who am I kidding? In those moments I think, “Screw it. I suck as a mom and I hate it.” And isn’t that just so productive? Sigh.)
When I find myself asking that question, I just remind myself that there’s probably some struggle they have that I don’t have. I don’t suck at everything, even at my worst.
And no, they don’t last forever. Even when I find I’m in the middle of a moment where I hate it, in the next minute, I’m totally okay and loving it again.
Been there. So even there. I was in full on survival mode for a solid 7 months after my second was born. It does get better.
Today, at 12 months and 4 years 9 months, the girls snorted, giggled and growled at each other for a 45 minute car ride. It was utterly incredible. Worth every struggle of expanding our family.
Yesterday, Joshua was talking in the back seat and I turned down the radio to ask him what he’d said. “No, Mama. I not talking to you. I talking to baby sister!”
Melted my heart.
I have SO been there, girl. Thanks for writing these words.
I think most of us have been there. It’s good to know we’re not alone.
I am so, SO with you here. I find myself angry at James over the tiniest things. Frustration in my gut and tears on my cheeks. I am not frustrated at having two children, I am frustrated AT the two year old. *Sigh* I feel so guilty sometimes. I am soaking up the baby stage with Will because I DIDN’T with James. And I didn’t even KNOW that I didn’t. And now I’m frustrated with him and missing his preschool stage. Grrr. This mama-thing is TOUGH. I want to be good at it and I want to not be so stressed out by it. Tell me how.
YES. Frustrated AT. And I’m trying to soak in the baby with Emma, too, and find myself so enamored with her sometimes in a way I can’t remember being with Joshua. I mean, I loved him, and I loved to just stare at him, but it’s so different.
And if I knew how? I would not have to write posts like this. 🙁
I could have written this last year. I had such a hard time juggling the transition from one to two. I never knew whose needs to take care of first. I would get overwhelmed by the smallest of tasks. I am so glad that you reached out for help when you needed it. That shows your inner strength.
Yes! I don’t know whose to take care of first. A friend with two said that the best advice she got was to take care of the needs of the older child first because the older child will remember while the younger one won’t. Makes perfect sense. Except if I’m nursing and he asks for milk (a want, not necessarily a need) then I’m not putting her down to get him milk, you know? But then he looks all sad and it breaks my heart.
This sounds like me a lot of the time. Going from one kid to two is HARD and it truly takes a village! Kudos to you for speaking up when you need help. It’s hard for us moms to do that. We want to just conquer it all and do it all at 100% when that isn’t reality.
I’m in it with you.
The other day we went through Starbucks because I promised E a cake pop for being a Big Boy. Well long story short, they both whined/cried while I ordered, while i picked up, and Charlie scream/cried the whole way home while E sang ABC’s at the top of his little lungs to drown out his brother and get my attention.
I laughed the whole way home…because the only other option was bawling.
Wow, I can so relate, but unfortunately I just have the one kid right now and am pregnant. I keep blaming it on being pregnant and hormones but I am secretly terrified that I’m going to lose it and not be able to handle two……
So I find myself addicted to ur blogs now. I just read about clothes/body issues. And after this post, I have to tell u, thank u! It may have taken u a couple days debating on if u should write certain blogs, but it have only taken me second to relate to them and become thankful someone else is out there. Almost everyday it seems I am having some kind of moment. It has gotten better, it was way worse after my daughter was first born. They said it was postpartum and would go away with time. They lied, I feel like I have learned to handle it better, but I don’t think it will ever go away. I actually believe it is just who I am, and has changed my personality forever. I cry a lot more, am not as “thick skinned” as I used to be (well emotionally, as I said I just wrote about all that skin in ur other post haha), and have less of a backbone than I used to. It comes with good things too, like I enjoy moments with my family more. My fiancée and daughter truly do make me happy. But after tonight, I am realizing that maybe its not just me. Maybe there are some of us that childbirth changes. For the good and bad. It at least makes me feel like I bypassedmthe looney bin at least one more day lol