Motherhood: Picking Up the Pieces

Time becomes a pretty nebulous thing once you’re a mom. Hours feel like an eternity and entire years feel like a hyperspeed blur. Sometimes it seems like only yesterday I was bringing home my tiny, baby Fern in all her long-limbed, sweet smelling glory. I can vividly recall nervously swaddling her and wondering how the hell they actually let me bring this little person home when I had no clue what I was doing. It seems like a blink later that baby was a precocious (slash crazy) two-year-old bundle of curls meeting her brand new, fresh-from-the-tub, baby brother for the first time. It’s flying by at lightning speed and sometimes as I glance over at them playing in their little kitchen as I cook dinner in our big kitchen, I beg time to please slow down…to please just keep them babies for the tiniest bit longer.

Motherhood: Picking Up the Pieces // @ The Little Things We Do

But then, there’s the day-to-day. The familiar and unremarkable grind that is ours. And it drags. Oh Lord, it drags. There are so many days (i.e. most days) when raising children feels like trying to swim upstream. Each night before bed, I tidy up the remnants of the day. I start the dishwasher, wipe down counters, pick up errant toys, fold blankets and if I’m feeling extra ambitious I sweep. And then they wake up. And my dog once again gets hair on every possible surface in our home (and reminds me that I will never again arrive anywhere wearing black without a reminder of her on my clothes). My baby dumps out every tub of toys and cupboard he can reach. My daughter spills 87 cups of liquid. And I wipe up the spills and pick up the pieces.

You know that phrase, “Like a bull in a china factory”?. This is how I imagine my life some days…with my children as the bulls. They crash around with a vigor that only small children know and break all the things. And there I am in the middle of it…in a sea of broken porcelain…trying to pick up the pieces in an exercise of futility. Sometimes I’m successful and by the time my husband comes home, all the pieces have been picked up and swept. The house has a semblance of normalcy once again and my children are simultaneously happy for a hot minute. Sometimes I think he forgets that it doesn’t look like this all day, as he leaves before our children wake and the house often looks the same when he returns. But, since he’s surprised us by coming home for lunch on occasion and seen it in it’s true state, I know this isn’t the case.

I truly believe my husband appreciates the work that I do in our home. I know he values the time I spend with our children and the fact that I complete these most menial to-dos. These are the things that keep our home humming along and he often voices his appreciation for them and for me. But, I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like a complete waste of time somedays.

There are so many days when I feel like the day was a complete and utter failure. I spent the entire day swimming upstream, spitting in the ocean, picking up the pieces, herding cats…and never truly made any headway. To work so hard and never make any visible progress can be incredibly defeating. Each evening I look around at my un-vacuumed rug and the “dust-Marleys” gathering in all the corners (we don’t have dust bunnies, since they’re all from our hairy beast of a German Shepherd – Marley). I see windows that haven’t been cleaned in 6 months (let’s be real, probably a year). I look in the mirror and see a hot mess of a mama who hasn’t showered in days and who lost her cool way too many times. A mama who didn’t do anything constructive with her children all day and who didn’t stop to enjoy them once. I see a mama who spent more of the day than not being resentful and bitter at those children, because their neediness knows no bounds. Every night as I think on the events of the day I feel like I’m never going to get the hang of this and that surely my children can sense my lack of enjoyment and will need therapy one day.

But I know this isn’t true (well, they still may need therapy, but hopefully it won’t be just because of me). Much as it might feel like I am unequivocally flawed as a mom and a wife, I know that this is simply a season. I remind myself that this is normal (this is normal, right?). I know that I am not the first woman to experience this feeling of futility as I pick up the pieces of my day…and I certainly won’t be the last. Motherhood is hard and messy and beautiful. But as one of my favorites, Glennon Doyle Melton says, “We can do hard things.” And I know this is true.

One day I will get around to cleaning those finger smudged windows…one day. But today, I will sit here in the early morning hours of my day, enjoying my coffee in sweet silence because my children are magically still sleeping, and I won’t be lifting a damn finger.

Comments

  1. Preach…

  2. Yes! It is “hard and messy and beautiful”. And, no, are definitely not alone. Thank you for honestly sharing your mama-journey. I feel ya about this being a season and like you try my best to enjoy and savor what I can, while maintaining some sanity. =)

  3. Thank you. I needed to hear this today and remember I’m not alone.

  4. Kathryn says:

    Thank you for this. It is just how I feel and it is so encouraging to know I am not the only one! So honest and real – Thank you!

    • @Kathryn – You are so welcome! I am always thankful when the things I write resonate with others. I don’t have all the answers…hardly any actually…but it’s nice to remind other women that we are all in this together.

  5. Lauren, I feel like you removed these words from my brain. No joke. My daughter {Avrie, 3 and Kenedie, 1 1/2} are just as you explained. Endlessly needy and crazy. Much of my day is spent preparing a snack every 10-15 min and cleaning up the messes that happen as the day goes on and never getting the chance to do any actual housework. I hate when people say, “Oh, you better cherish these moments.” I’m like, “uh, comments to yourself, thanks.” It’s rough right now, but I have been trying to find 5-10 great moments throughout the day and I actually write them down. Then when something goes wrong and one of the girls ruins the mood we will sit and discuss the great moments…even if they were from yesterday. Ha!

    • @Ashlie – I love that SO much. Sitting down and writing it down is a really fantastic idea. Sometimes I try to stop and remember, but my brain is often fried and my recall sucks. I may need to take a page from your book. Also…so much YES to the “cherish every moment” comments. No. Just no.

  6. This is the best! SO true…all of it.

  7. I have a 9 month old and a 15 year old (he’s my foster son), some days it feels like my 29 year old husband fits in the children bracket too. Our house is a complete mad place at the moment given that we’re in the middle of decorating Our Sidekick’s bedroom which means there’s a mattress and all his bedding abandoned in the middle of the living room floor and on the landing there is a whole heap of stuff from his room. Hopefully by Monday we’ll be almost finished and can get back to normal.

    Right now it really does feel like I’m paddling upstream and hoping for the best.

  8. I appreciate the honesty and authenticity that you bring to this article and your blog. It is so refreshing to see someone being honest about the trials and tribulations of day-to-day things. You’re kicking butt!

  9. Jennifer E. says:

    I love when you write these posts because it feels like you’ve given voice to exactly what I’m thinking. Both of my girls are just slightly older than your two and it’s exhausting. Some days my three year old is so opinionated and independent that the neediness catches me off guard and if the 14 month old throws her food on the floor, and the wall, and me one more time I might lose my shit. So thank you. Thank you for being honest. For keeping it real. And for reminding me I’m not alone as I swim upstream.

  10. I just love your piece of writing! I can totally relate to that bull in a china factory thing. Thanks for sharing your thought 🙂

  11. I appreciate this so much! There are so many days when I feel guilty for what I didn’t do, or how I reacted to a crying fit… everything you said. It helps so much to know I’m not the only one, and makes it easier to go forward with a good attitude. Thanks for your honesty!

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