If you like to collect accomplishments, love checking off a neat to-do list, and live for words of affirmation motherhood may not be for you. There is no end of the year evaluation. There is no boss critiquing you and then praising you for all the things you do well. There are no goals waiting to be demolished. There is no clock- in time and sadly, no clock-out time. There are very few breaks, if any. There is no paid vacation time. HR does not exist and you are left to handle any problems you might have with your coworker (aka your child) to yourself. There is no continuing education that needs to be completed. No conferences or seminars. There are no sick days. There is no one to call when you need a “mental health day”. If you need and thrive on these things then motherhood may not be for you.
These are all things that I need. I am THAT personality. I collect accomplishments, demolish goals, I live for words of affirmation. I love challenges and I LOVE checking off a to do list. I love all of those things because they reinforce all of my strong suits. Motherhood forces me to confront all that I am not. It forces me to be humble and selfless. It forces me to have patience, to rearrange my plans or even cancel them. It forces me to give up my desires and needs and put someone else s above mine. It forces me to live in the moment and leave the rest to God. Motherhood is an endurance event which is an event that I have some experience in. However, this endurance event doesn’t have a finish line. Motherhood, in a sense, forces me to become a different person.
Life is interesting. Sometimes God places you in situations that you never saw coming. I went to school for six years. I loved school and then I had a job for two years, that most of the time, I adored. It was challenging, it was rewarding, it was something that I was good at. Exhausted or not, at the end of the day, I felt accomplished. This mommy thing…leaves me exhausted and often times, most times, without a sense of accomplishment. It leaves me unsure of myself. I am not positive that anything I do is the “right” thing to do. It sometimes leaves me jealous. At times, I am jealous of working moms, jealous of single girls, and jealous of couples without children. Most days I am jealous of my husband. He gets to go to work and have his own thing, is own life, then he comes home and gets to be daddy. He doesn’t worry about his little man being in a stranger’s arms because his wife is the one taking care of his little man. Men have it SO good.
He makes his “own” money. He has his “own” accomplishments. When people run into him they automatically ask him about work. When people run into me…there is that awkward silence because…I do nothing. I sit at home all day, watching TV, taking bubble baths, doing my hair and makeup, going tanning, laying by the pool, and spending hours at the gym. Occasionally, I might change a diaper here or there. At least that’s what I imagine they think I do all day. When we…or I should say he pays for dinner the other person automatically says thank you to him. That bothers me SO much. Because, we might not be able to pay for their dinner if we were paying for daycare. I am so jealous of him. But then…he is probably jealous of me. He is probably jealous that I get to stay home with my little every day. He is jealous that we have such a unique bond. He is jealous that I don’t have to worry about all of the stresses a job brings. And…make no mistake, I know how unbelievably blessed I am to be in a position where I can stay home with my little man.
I know, you are thinking, why not just go back to work? A legitimate question. I feel like this is a calling. A calling on my life. I am home with him because it is where I am supposed to be. It has to be a calling, I have been doing it for nine months. If it wasn’t my calling I would already be back at work. I am called to be his mother. I am called to be my husband’s wife. I am called to serve. I have peace with that. Even when I sometimes really wish I had a different calling.
I have said all of that to say this. If you have the calling to be a stay at home mom, know that others recognize your sacrifice. I know how you never get a moment to yourself. I know that you were a woman with hopes, dreams, and life plans before you had a child. I know that you have much more to offer the world than just being someone’s mom or someone’s wife. I know that you contribute just as much to your household as your husband does. I know that most of the time you get no recognition. I also know that the reason your child is meeting every milestone is because YOU played, taught, and nurtured your child. I know the reason your baby knows baby sign language, can say “mama” and “dada”, can drink out of a sippy cup, knows how to read, can count to 10, can throw a ball, is nice to others, and always says his prayers before bed…is because of YOU. I also know the reason your husband can be so successful at his job is because of you. I know you are the one picking out his wardrobe, having a healthy dinner for him every night…OK most nights. I know that you are the one challenging him to reach his goals and to set new ones, the one who makes his lunch, and makes sure he has shampoo and deodorant. You are the one washing his clothes and then covering him in prayer daily. I know that you are his biggest cheerleader.
When you are having one of “those” days, when you are becoming jealous of others, remember that motherhood is not for you. It is for your child. It’s not about you, it’s about your child. You are doing this for them and because of them. With or without recognition, know that your tears, time, and prayers are making a difference in your little’s world. And know…that there is no one else in this world that has the calling to be your little’s mom. That is a job that no one can fill.
*Working moms…I know that you do all of these things and go to work. I know that is so challenging. Please know that I admire and am sometimes envious of you. This blog applies to you as well. You are inspiring. You are a superwoman.
– Court
Hot Mess Mom 