“Have you thought about going back to work full-time?” My husband, Jake, asked carefully, his voice laced with concern. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. His words pierced through my heart, as he continued, “You just seem…well, not so happy.”
He was walking a fine line, trying to address a problem I hadn’t explicitly brought up. I was drowning in the chaos of being a mom to two little ones, and the weight was becoming too much to bear. My days were consumed by two primary tasks: nursing my newborn and attempting to potty train my toddler. One was always hungry, while the other faced digestive issues. You could set your clock by my routine—at 9 a.m., 11 a.m., and 3:38 p.m., I was in the bathroom, coaxing one child on the potty while the other nursed. Add piles of laundry and dishes to the mix, and I could hardly breathe.
Every evening, Jake walked in to find our two-year-old sprawled on the floor with a tummy ache, our four-month-old crying, and me teetering on the edge of a breakdown. As soon as he came through the door at 6:02 p.m., I would hand off the kids and unload a barrage of complaints before seeking refuge in the bathroom for a brief moment of solitude.
Jake, my knight in shining armor, would take over parenting duties while I recounted the exhausting details of my day. I needed him to understand how hard it was, how drained and hopeless I felt by the end of the day. I had become the ultimate grumbler, ranting about everything from spit-up to tantrums. It was exhausting, and I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. Who was this person constantly complaining? I wanted to stop, but couldn’t help it; the negativity spilled out uncontrollably.
It’s no surprise that Jake eventually suggested I might be happier if I returned to a full-time job. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t toyed with that idea myself. His question, however, was a wake-up call. It made me realize that the real issue wasn’t the kids but my attitude. It was my negativity that was overshadowing the good moments. I had somehow flipped my daily narrative to focus on the bad, with positivity barely making an appearance.
Once upon a time, Jake and I both worked full-time and shared the same level of stress. We swapped stories over leisurely dinners, living in sync. Now, while Jake was still at the office, I had transitioned to working part-time from home, caring for two small children.
For some reason, since becoming a work-from-home mom, I felt this overwhelming need for Jake to understand the full scope of my daily struggles. I was fixated on conveying how tough it was to care for our kids, as if he needed to feel my pain to appreciate my role. I remember one of the first times I left him alone with the kids. When I returned, it looked like a tornado had hit. Toys were everywhere, yogurt was spilled, and Elmo was hanging from the ceiling fan. Jake’s face said it all when he uttered nine magical words: “I don’t know how you do this every day.” It felt like a victory; I needed that acknowledgment.
But that night in the kitchen, when Jake innocently asked if I would be happier working outside the home, I had to confront the truth. Was I really unhappy? I have my moments, but overall, this is my dream come true. When friends ask about my life, I express my gratitude for being able to watch my kids grow while pursuing creative endeavors. Sure, balancing it all is a struggle, but deep down, I wouldn’t trade this chaos for anything.
In my quest for validation, I had painted a grim picture of motherhood, neglecting to share the joy alongside the struggles. I often focus on the tough days, leaving out the beautiful moments. After all, for every meltdown, there’s a dance party. What if I flipped the script on my daily reports? What if I shared the good along with the bad?
I’ve been in this motherhood game long enough to know I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. The daily report? That’s one area I need to improve. So, I’m making a resolution to focus on the positives. Each day, I’ll find three good things to share with Jake, like our boys giggling during peek-a-boo or their adorable shampoo mohawks in the bath. I want to highlight what makes us smile and stop fixating on what makes us cry.
And on those truly chaotic days, instead of bombarding Jake with complaints, I’ll use our code phrase: “Wanna pick up Chipotle for dinner?” He’ll know exactly what that means without me needing to elaborate. That way, when he walks in at 6:02 p.m. and sees the mess, he can still smile and say, “I don’t know how you do this every day.”
For more insights on navigating the ups and downs of parenthood, check out this insightful post on our blog.
Summary
The pressures of motherhood can lead to feelings of negativity and frustration. Acknowledging these feelings is important, but it’s equally vital to focus on the positive moments. By shifting the narrative to include joy, you can foster a healthier outlook on parenting.