Recently I just lost it. Totally lost it. In that way that if you saw me you’d wonder if I was going to hurt myself; or if I had a mental imbalance; or if I had just gone bat shit crazy and was ever coming back. I wondered that myself actually. During the losing it. I don’t know what’s worse… knowing you completely lost it AFTER the fact and then dealing with guilt and pain of being out of control in the past; OR knowing you are currently in the process of acting completely out of control and feeling all of the feelings in body all while observing yourself. Let me tell you… the latter is not at all pleasant.
This experience was an accumulation of feelings, and thoughts, and unmet expectations that culminated into one moment where one of my kids was doing something I knew she was doing, I was hoping she wasn’t, and I was occupied by a nursing baby and chose to put off investigating further. Luna had been in my office. Where I keep my business supplies, aka. bath and beauty products. You can just imagine what comes next.
A naked body, Pink Champagne Body Icing, and lots of yelling. I sent her to the tub as I cleaned up the floor, and I continued on a yelling rant. I’m not even sure if what I was actually doing could be described as yelling because I was using the full force of my voice. My throat hurt later as a result.
Truth be told, the angels could probably see it coming a mile away. Not even 20 minutes earlier I was having a Facebook conversation with my friend about how much I sometimes hate being a parent. Resentment, frustration, and disappointment were already brewing beneath the surface. I had already texted Jeremy to let him know I’m outta here once he gets home. Off to the gym.
So I am going to assume that up to this point it all seems pretty normal. Acceptable? No. Normal and understandable? Yes, of course.
What interests me and deserves further attention is what came out of my mouth as I ranted around the house for a good 5 minutes which felt more like 15. The feelings I was already feeling in the hour prior bubbled up to the surface and exploded out of my mouth in the form of, “Don’t touch my stuff!”
“I can’t do this!”
“I don’t want to fucking do this anymore!”
Now I don’t believe in “can’t.” Really. Can’t is “won’t” disguised in excuses. Where there is a willingness and a desire there is a way. Always. So really, what I was saying is that I won’t do this. I will not do this – and the next part of that is – because I don’t want to.
The truth is that I simply don’t want to do this. Now I have been struggling with this for a long time. I am a homeschooling mom, although it looks more like unschooling, which often looks like neglect. I occupy my mind and time with my business because it gives me something tangible to focus on. Something that brings immediate rewards and feedback and good feelings.
My own mother admitted to me many a times that she simply wasn’t a good stay at home mom. Until this point I wanted to believe that maybe I was different. I definitely am not the “typical” (whatever the hell that means) stay-at-home-mom, but I wanted to believe that I could do this.
A long time before I had kids a psychic friend had told me that she couldn’t see me as a mom. I wasn’t the mom type. At the time I was slightly offended. Why would she say that? And why the hell not? To me, it was as if I was being told I wasn’t good enough; I wasn’t woman enough; and of course I reacted as many of us would. It was a (subconscious) challenge to prove her wrong.
Now, three kids later, I envy people without children (a little) and I often remind them (both silently and not so silently) to find out who they are, experience life, do things they love to do and don’t take life for granted before they have kids. I’d go a bit further and challenge them to ask themselves why they feel they want kids at all. And I will do the same with my own kids.
But here I am. I am a homeschooling (legal label) mother of three. I am home with my children 24/7 save for the occasional spa party, trip to the gym, or girl’s night out. And each one of those is very occasional. I am VERY good at being present with my children when we are out of the house (where there is no WiFi- read: distraction), and when we are in an environment where my ONLY responsibility it their wellbeing. Interestingly, being at home is overwhelming. Not only do I have to tend to them and their varied needs, but I have laundry; and dishes; and my business needs to take care of. It’s much too much.
And sometimes, I just don’t want to do it.
So what do I do? What would YOU do in this situation? What does your life look like? What are your challenges?