“When I grow up, I want to have a husband and three children.” This was what I secretly wished for when I was a child. And that’s exactly what I got. Although I am grateful and love them all, I sometimes wonder if I am in over my head. Being a mother is hard! Who new? Is it just me? When I was a kid, it all looked so easy on TV! All you saw was love. No tantrums, hormones, talking back or waiting up late to see if they will at least call to say they’re ok.
I find that motherhood has made me more sensitive as I get older. I cry (mostly in secret) over what feels like the silliest things and worry about my children to the point where it stresses me out. The older they get, I feel as though my ability to protect them is just slipping away. It’s the most helpless feeling.
The world is such a crazy place and I feel as though nothing I can do, will prepare them enough for what’s out there. I don’t want them to find out just how crazy/dangerous the world really is, the hard way like I did. How I wish I could spare them all of that. And then there’s me….I’m so hard on myself. Navigating between the way my mom raised me and the mother I would like to be is a bigger challenge than I thought.
I am trying so hard to find the balance between the two, yet I always feel like I am falling short. I hate having to be the disciplinarian, when all I want to be is the nurturer. Then there are days when I get a random hug from my youngest, or my middle child will do something thoughtful for me; or my eldest will want to stop by just to watch a movie with me.
Those are the days that make it all worth it and encourage me to keep doing my best. Perhaps, that’s enough?
Till next time,
Drea.
Conversations With Drea 