I am still a Mom, though, I am not just me anymore. Being a mom is the most amazing job ever; it fills my heart but it also completely depletes my energy. It calls nearly all of my attention, and it is absolutely exhausting, and completely draining. But there is nothing that brings me more joy than being a mom. My son needs me; I am his mother, his solace, his safe place. And I need him almost as much as he needs me.
But I am also a person, a completely separate entity from my child. And even though I love him more than myself, I still need time to myself, separate from everyone and every thing.
I am also a daughter, who forgets all too often to call or text her parents.
I am also a sister, and I talk to my brother even less than I do my parents. He lives half a county away, and I miss him dearly.
I’m a grand-daughter, and I can’t even tell you when it was I last picked up the phone to talk to my grandfather.
I am also a woman, who wants to love and be loved, a partner in someone else’s life who wants to spend quality time with a loved one. I am also his solace and his safe place.
Related: The 30 Day Mommy Self-Care Challenge
But I am also a woman who needs to shower and wash my hair, brush my teeth and my hair, shave my legs (Yea right, that doesn’t happen anymore,) do my makeup and get ready for the day.
I am a full-time employee, working hard to provide a better life for my son. I am working towards something I am passionate about and it gives me the deepest joy.
But I’m also a mom, and I feel guilty. Being a full-time working mom also means I don’t spend nearly enough time with my son.
I’m also a writer at heart, and it brings me unimaginable joy and solitude. I enjoy typing and writing thoughtful, deep and insightful, meaningful pieces. It brings a calm to the storm roaring inside of me and quiets the room.
But I am also a mom, and I don’t have nearly enough time during the day to write and enjoy a moment of peace and quiet.
I also love to sit in my car or dance around my house and blast music as loud as possible while I sing off-key at the top of my lungs, and I don’t care who sees.
At times I am a house-keeper, trying to maintain the chaos that comes from having a toddler running around. I am the dishwasher, the launderer, and a chef among many other things.
I am also a long-lost soccer and volleyball player who enjoys being active, but rarely gets the chance anymore.
I used to be a friend, because nothing beats a conversation with a girlfriend, staying up for hours talking about boys and babies. But the last time I had a decent chat with a friend that lasted longer than it took to walk by each other, was probably well over 3 years ago.
I also used to be an artist who loved to paint and create amazing pieces of art. Who worked with glass and other beautiful mediums.
Someday I hope to be a wife, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, an aunt, a daughter-in-law, a mother-in-law, a writer, an author and so much more.
Each one of these describes who I am, who I will be or who I once was. I am each of these people, all at once. Except that I am actually none of these people, because there just isn’t enough time in a day. There’s only ever enough room to be one, maybe two at a time. And there’s never enough time to be all of them in a single day. And it is so very hard to be torn between who we want to be, who we should be and who we need to be.
After being a working mom all day and then coming home and being everything my son needs for the evening and then everything my partner needs at the end of the night, there isn’t hardly anything left for just me. There isn’t enough room for me to be me, let alone all of the other people I want to be; a daughter, a sister, a grand-daughter. An artist, a writer, a painter, an athlete. All of those things fall off the face of the earth nearly every single day, because there just isn’t enough time and that’s killing me.
My most important title is Mom, and second comes the career woman who’s trying to provide a better life for my son. Third comes the woman who needs to shower for the day ahead and feel loved at the end of a long day.
After that, every other person inside of me pushes and shoves and tries to surge forward to the front, vying for attention and begging to be a priority.
The daughter in me desperately wants to call my mom and have a good conversation with my best friend.
The sister in me wants to call my brother and see how he’s doing in his new life on the coast.
The athlete in me stews in the corner because she knows she will never get picked; instead I’ll try to go for a walk.
The house-keeper in me steps forward, because the dishes HAVE to be done or we won’t have anything to eat off of and laundry needs to be washed or else we won’t have clothes to put on our backs.
The writer and the artist in me feels guilty for even thinking about trying to vie for attention, so she stands in the back and waits for her turn, which rarely ever comes.
I’ve been feeling very lost lately and I haven’t been myself. It’s so hard to write when I feel so overwhelmed. It’s too hard to ignore everything else that needs to be done to sit down and do something for myself. I end up doing something “more important” and writing nothing at all. Mostly, I’ve been feeling completely lost to working so much and torn between being a mom, a working mom and also having time to blog or write, which brings me great joy and peace of mind. But it’s too hard to sit down and think without thinking about everything else.
But I am more than only a mom and I need space to just be me. To be who I am aside from all these other hats I wear on top of who I already am. I need to be my own solace, my own light. I need time to restore myself and I don’t give myself that time enough, lately. I’m too busy running around trying to make sure everything is done and ultimately nothing ever gets done except for a few toys get put away. One thing is almost always certain at the end of every day; I am tired and I spent very little time on myself other than a shower and brushing my teeth. Sometimes there isn’t even time for half of that!
I am not just a mom. I am not simply a mom. I am a super mom, a bad ass mom! At times I am the greatest mom, the most loving and patient mom. I spend every hour I can with my son and try to make them the best hours of his day. And at times, I am also the worst mom; I work long hours and I’m unbelievably tired at the end of the day. I yell and I scream and I cry, and I spank my son and I lose my temper more often than I care to admit. But I am far from simply a mom. There is so much more to being a mom than those three little letters. I am a woman and a parent, a friend and a lover, a house-keeper, a chef, a writer, a rock-star, and more, all rolled into one incredible human being who just so happened to make a baby from scratch and bring him into this crazy world.
It’s okay that the dishes didn’t get done, or the laundry didn’t get folded fresh out of the dryer. It’s okay to take five minutes for myself. It’s okay to be selfish and focus on yourself sometimes. Because you won’t be any good to anyone else, much less yourself, if you don’t take care of yourself, mommas.