Now it’s time to jump back to my more serious confession that I mentioned previously. I actually wrote this days ago when negativity from lack of sleep was driving me, so I decided to hold off on publishing it until I could have a better perspective. And today I do. But my post isn’t any less true, so here it is.
Confession: I’m not cut out for motherhood.
Being a parent is SO hard. Or maybe I just make it hard. These days I find it almost laughable that being a mother is the one and only thing I knew without a doubt that I wanted to do, and that there was a time where I thought I would be amazing at it.
My ideals rarely line up with my reality though. I feel like I am in a constant war with myself between being the mother that I want to be and the mother that I actually am. I had terribly unrealistic expectations of what being a mother would be like, but I also didn’t at all realize how being a mother would change me, and it hasn’t all been in positive ways. I try to look for the balance, but sometimes it just feels like the negatives are outweighing here.
I love my children. I really do. More than I will love anything or anyone else. But I don’t always like them, and that is a fact with which I find it really hard to cope.
I wish that I were a patient and loving parent. Instead I feel more like a crazy, screaming banshee. Patient and loving are the furthest things from what I feel half the time.
I’m tired of the battles.
I’m tired of seeing myself reflected back to me in my children. It only highlights my inadequacy at the job I am doing.
I do remember a point where I did think I was a great mother, but it was a long time ago, and before I had two children. Having two children broke me, and I’ve been struggling in varying degrees ever since. It is why I am adamant about the fact that do not want, and will not have any more children. I don’t want to see what a third child would do to me as a person.
I hear that as they get older it will get easier. I can only hope, but that only makes me wish away these younger years… Fast forward to a time where we can enjoy each other more. And that is just so damn sad.
[box] I love and hate writing posts like this. Love them because it relieves some of the pressure I feel inside me, and hate them because they always peel away at the carefully constructed mask I like to try and wear.[/box]