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Parenting
The Realities of Motherhood
Updated: Dec. 20, 2016
Originally Published: July 20, 2010
I find myself in a daily battle with a toddler who thinks she’s a police siren and a baby zooming around in a bumper car. My daughter, Mia, whines “WHYYYYY!!??” non-stop while little Leo crashes into my legs, screaming at the top of his lungs to be picked up. Honestly, I feel like a walking piece of Velcro for these kids.
As soon as I lift Leo into my arms, he immediately goes limp, playing DEAD POSSUM, twisting his body backward until I have to let him down again. I suspect we might have a future Olympic Diver on our hands!
This chaos is my everyday reality. I mutter under my breath, “I JUST CAN’T WIN.” It feels as if my children are on a mission to drive me crazy. No matter what I do, it never seems to be the right choice.
Meanwhile, my two-and-a-half-year-old has declared nap time officially out of fashion. You’d think I was suggesting a visit to the dentist instead of a simple nap.
In my mind, I’m shouting: “I WOULD GIVE ANYTHING TO BE YOU! YOU’RE SCREAMING FOR AN HOUR BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO NAP?!” I’m just waiting for that fairy dust from 13 Going on 30 to magically appear. Honestly, I would trade being Jennifer Garner for a chance to be a child again—though, on second thought, I would never want to relive the high school experience.
Let me share a little story with you (and yes, I’m judging myself for this!). The other night, my partner, Dan, had to work late. Unable to reach him on the phone, I decided to enjoy a quiet evening with my Kindle after a hectic day filled with non-stop screaming.
Ah, blissful peace and quiet. But then I discovered my Kindle was dead. So, I rummaged through an old bag from a weekend trip in February to find the charger. Instead, I accidentally cut my finger on a razor blade I had stupidly left in there.
For a moment, I just stared at the blood gushing from my finger. It was oddly fascinating, almost like I was a character in a movie. I thought, “NO WAY. IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING TO ME?” Sometimes, I feel invincible.
As I looked at my bleeding finger, I felt offended. How could the universe conspire against me? I dripped blood all the way to the bathroom, where I finally found a band-aid. I mistakenly assumed wrapping it would apply pressure—turns out, I was a bit misinformed.
That tiny cut turned into a full-blown bloodbath, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for myself. Here I was, a stay-at-home mom, unable to contact my partner, bleeding alone after a day of wiping noses and cleaning juice spills. Was this really my life?
In that moment, I convinced myself I was a martyr, having sacrificed my finger for my children and family. Then came the anger. I felt utterly unappreciated, so I devised a rather juvenile plan: I would lie on the bed, leaving the blood mess for Dan to find, hoping he’d feel guilty for not picking up my calls.
Now, I’m mortified to admit this, but when he walked in, he saw a dramatic scene: blood-stained sheets, a bathroom that looked like a crime scene, and my hand outstretched like I’d just survived a horror film. He genuinely thought I was dead!
I know, it’s terrible. I have no excuse for my antics. These are the moments that remind me, despite the children and the supposed selflessness that comes with adulthood, I’m still just a ridiculously dramatic twenty-something mother. I’m still me—flawed and juggling the chaos of motherhood while trying to love my kids, and I mess up daily.
Some days, I feel like a good mom, and the next, I’m slicing my finger and throwing a pity party because my husband didn’t answer my calls while I was bleeding all over the place. This, my friends, is motherhood. I’m just as impatient, just as dramatic, and just as chaotic as I’ve always been.
Maybe it’s time to embrace my ridiculousness and stop feeling guilty about it. Motherhood has brought all my quirks to light. It’s filled with drama, and that’s alright. I’m a mess, we’re all a mess; welcome to my life as a self-proclaimed martyr. Life is an adventure, right?
My family loves me—even when I’m lying on the bed, hoping Dan thinks I’ve met my end.
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Summary
In the whirlwind of motherhood, Emily candidly shares her chaotic daily life, filled with toddler tantrums and unexpected mishaps. From a bleeding finger incident to her dramatic reactions, she embraces the messiness of parenting while learning to accept her own imperfections. Ultimately, she highlights that motherhood is an adventure filled with love, drama, and a unique blend of chaos.