I woke up this morning to a screaming 10 month old. Lord knows how long she had been howling because someone...me...turned the volume down too low on the monitor. Yea me. By the time I got a look at my self it was apparent I was a hot mess; red puffy eyes, black makeup under my eyes and one seriously ratty pony tail. But I had broken the seal...I had a mommy melt down last night. My husband and I were sitting out back on a Friday night just talking. Some how he wound up asking me..."what makes you happy..." I stared blankly ahead and answered quietly "I don't know." Then the tears came and didn't stop. It was like someone uncorked the well. I never dreamed being a working mom would be this hard. I have managed many difficult trials in my life but none of them compare to this. It has been a slippery slope; one I can't seem to smile and laugh my way out of this time. The unrest is a bit of a three part series....
My job is to manage three offices for a fortune 500 builder's title company. I manage a staff of full time employees and temp employees. My job is like a wagon that always has a loose wheel. Just when you think its fixed; the damn wheel falls off again. I am constantly putting a band aid on something that needs healing but I cannot seem to get there. I keep thinking once this or that happens we will be a fully operating and well oiled machine. At the end of the day; I feel like a failure. The exact thing I work so hard to make sure my employees don't feel. I go in every day, keep my head above water and do just what I need to do to get through the day.
I am a wife to my husband of almost 10 years. I come home and immediately do something; drop my purse and start dinner, make bottles, change diapers etc. For months I have not had a dinner "plan". We scrounge around for whatever...ends up being left overs I froze or cereal. I feel like a failure. Most of the time I don't even think to kiss my husband; I just start in on the things I need to do to get through the night.
I am a mother to a 10 month old beautiful daughter. When I get home from work she lights up and rushes over to me with her little baby crawl. I scoop her up and try and give her everything I've got. I eat dinner in 10 minutes so that I can tend to her. I get her fed. I sit on the floor and play with her. I feel like a failure because I am too tired to read to her, practice counting or colors. I do just what I need to do to make sure she knows I am paying attention and that I love her.
I am a woman. When I wake up in the morning I do just what I need to get through the day. When (ha ha...if) I go to the mall I feel awkward. I am not familiar with the new fashions. I have not flipped through a magazine in months. I no longer buy designer make up because it costs to much. I refuse to buy new clothes because I don't want to admit my size. I just know I will lose the weight I want to in order to fit into my pre-baby clothes. I spend my weekends running errands, taking care of my kid, hiding the guilt I feel because these are the only two days a week I get the privilege of seeing her all day, laundry, cleaning and if I am lucky, a play date to breakfast or Target with one my Mommy friends. I feel like a failure because I swore this week would be different and I would do something out of routine, I would do something for just me. Instead, I fall into bed and do it all again the next day.
