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“I Can’t Believe You Manage All This Every Day”
“Maybe you’d feel better if you returned to work?” I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my messy ponytail as a tear escaped down my cheek. His words felt like a stab to my already fragile heart. My husband, Tom, who I’ve been married to for seven years, continued cautiously, “You just don’t seem… happy.”
He was walking a tightrope, trying to fix a situation I hadn’t asked him to address. I was overwhelmed in my new role as a mom of two, feeling the weight of it all. My days revolved around two main tasks: breastfeeding the baby and potty training the toddler. One was always hungry while the other was having bathroom struggles—this was my daily grind. Picture me in the bathroom at 9 a.m., 11 a.m., and 3:38 p.m., coaxing one child to use the potty while the other nursed. With mountains of dirty dishes and laundry piling up, plus two kids wailing, I felt suffocated in my own life.
Each evening, when Tom came home, he stepped into the same chaotic scene: our toddler sprawled on the floor with a tummy ache, the baby crying, and me on the edge of a breakdown. This became our routine—Tom would arrive at 6:02 p.m., and I would dump both kids into his arms along with a slew of complaints before locking myself in the bathroom for 10 minutes of solitude.
Every night, my husband took over child duty while I vented about our exhausting day. I needed him to understand just how hard it was, how exhausted I felt, and how hopeless I became by 5 p.m. Stories of spit-up, failed naps, tantrums at the grocery store, and crushed Cheerios under the kitchen table spilled from my mouth.
I had morphed into the ultimate complainer, with my kids at the center of my rants. I became someone I didn’t like—the victim, the person who whined more than laughed. Some days I hardly recognized myself. Who was this negative person constantly complaining? I wanted to stop but couldn’t; the rants came out uncontrollably.
It’s no shock that eventually Tom wondered if I’d be happier returning to a full-time job. Honestly, I had pondered that myself. His question, however, made me realize that the real issue wasn’t the kids; it was my attitude. It wasn’t them; it was me. My daily narrative had somehow skewed toward 90% negativity and only 10% positivity.
Once upon a time, in what feels like a different life, Tom and I both had full-time careers. We shared the same life struggles: meeting deadlines, managing commutes, and dealing with annoying conference calls. We both earned paychecks and enjoyed promotions for our hard work. Our evenings were filled with similar work stories while dining together—a leisurely meal at the kitchen table, can you believe that? Our lives were in sync.
Now, Tom is still working full-time, while I’ve transitioned to part-time work from home, managing two little ones. Since becoming a work-at-home mom, I’ve become fixated on making Tom fully grasp the challenges of caring for kids all day. I felt the need to ensure he understood the physical and emotional toll motherhood had on me.
I remember one of the first times I left Tom alone with both kids for a morning. When I returned, it looked like a tornado had hit—toys everywhere, spilled yogurt on the floor, and was that Elmo hanging from the ceiling fan? Tom’s expression said it all, but then he said something that changed everything: “I don’t know how you do this every day.”
The moment those words left his lips, it felt like angels were singing. Sunlight streamed through the windows as I kissed him, saying, “That’s the best thing you could ever say to me.” I craved that validation, that affirmation that I wasn’t the only one finding this journey tough. I wanted to tattoo that phrase on his forehead and hang it on our wall to read every night.
But that night, when Tom innocently asked if I’d be happier going back to a full-time job, I had to reflect. Was I really unhappy? Sure, I had tough moments, but overall, this was my dream. I love being home with my kids and pursuing creative endeavors that contribute to our family. Yes, there are challenges, but when I really think about it, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.
In my desperation to be understood and appreciated, I realized I painted an incomplete picture of our days. I often share the hard parts but neglect the joyful moments. For every tantrum, there’s a dance party; for every tough car ride, there’s laughter. What if I shifted my narrative to highlight the positives? How would that change our evenings together? How would it impact my marriage, my relationship with my kids, and my own pride in this journey?
What if instead of giving my kids a failing grade on their report card, I gave them an A+? Let’s be real—a solid A- would be more accurate. What if I focused on the good instead of the bad? Each evening when Tom walks in the door, what if I shared the highlights instead of the complaints?
I’m three years into this motherhood gig, and I’ve made plenty of mistakes, but I’ve also done some things right. I can acknowledge that I need to improve my daily report. So, I’m making a resolution to swap my red pen for gold stars. Daily, I’ll identify three good things to share, like the way the boys play peek-a-boo or how adorable they look with shampoo mohawks after a bath. I’ll focus on the smiles and let go of the tears.
On those truly challenging days, I’ll use a code phrase instead of unloading complaints the moment Tom walks in. “Wanna pick up Chipotle for dinner?” He’ll know what that means without me needing to elaborate. It’s a signal that we both understand, allowing us to enjoy our time together without reliving every painful detail of the day.
So, at 6:02 p.m., he’ll walk in with dinner, look around, and say with a smile, “I don’t know how you do this every day.”
For more on this journey, you can check out our other blogs, like this one for helpful insights. Plus, for those considering options in home insemination, this resource is a great authority on the topic, and here is an excellent support resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
In Summary
Navigating motherhood while managing the demands of daily life can be incredibly challenging. It’s easy to focus on the negatives, but recognizing the joy amid chaos can transform our perspective and relationships. By sharing positive experiences and using supportive communication, we can create a more joyful home environment.