There I was, like every mother before me, crumpled on the bathroom floor, sobbing as my children pounded on the door. The scales had finally tipped and I could not fight the tears any longer. Repeating to myself over and over about how I can’t do this anymore. Resisting the urge to get my car and drive until the gas in my car runs out. Somehow I found comfort knowing that every mother has been there before. If you have not yet been to this point, no worries one day you will be.
I see it almost as a rite of passage. There comes a point when you realize that you truly are only human. Modern society has created this image that mothers are immortal goddesses of never ending strength and patience. Well. I mean they have some of it right. They seem to forget the part where we too are only human. We grow cranky and irritable. We have limits. Having a child is not the equivalent of eating ambrosia, the food of the Gods, though it feels like it.
When you can’t fill these Titan sized shoes, you begin to be filled with doubt. How can someone like me be so inadequate in raising a child? I shouldn’t be tired. I shouldn’t need to eat. I shouldn’t be angry or cranky or frustrated. I should love my child to the fullest 24/7. And if I have needs and wants it will take away my ability to love my child. These unfortunate lies are why so many women end up just like myself. Sitting on the cold bathroom floor sobbing for help. For relief. For anything.
There is this helpless feeling as if your world is crumbling to pieces. This isn’t how is was supposed to be. You were supposed to be the perfect Pinterest mom. Your children were supposed to wear adorable little outfits while doing their quiet Montessori activities, just like on Instagram. You sit and think back to where you may have gone wrong. What am I doing wrong? Why is my child naked watching Team Umizoomi eating Cheese Doodles? Then you remember is because you needed that moment of piece.
This is not how it was supposed to be. I was not going to be that kind of mom. But let’s be honest, it is all bullshit. The truth is none of us know what we are doing. Every day is just a struggle to get to the next. You love your child to the best of your ability. In the end, it is all that really matters. Even when you have locked yourself in the bathroom because you had enough, you still love your child. Despite having the temporary urge to put them up for adoption. Because you are only human. And humans have bad days.