It’s approaching noon, and I find myself stationed at the kitchen counter—where I’ve seemingly spent the entire day—preparing fruit for lunch. Just then, the FedEx truck pulls up. I had completely forgotten the dogs were outside, and they are now giving the delivery person an unwelcome greeting. In my pajama pants and unkempt hair, I dash outside to quiet the dogs and retrieve the package. My kids, dressed in a chaotic mix of costume attire, push past me to say hello to the delivery guy.
As I juggle two dogs and three children, I’m desperately trying to contain the whirlwind of my household. The dogs are barking, the kids are shoving, and the delivery person is determined to offer the dogs a biscuit they clearly don’t want. Thanks, but it might be best if you just make a quick exit.
Once I manage to get everyone back inside, I realize that both the neighbors and the FedEx driver have just witnessed my braless state. Fantastic. My nursing tank top—unused for almost two years—offers about as much support as a piece of tissue. My kids look like a disheveled crew, despite my efforts to get them cleaned up earlier. They tug at me, clamoring to know what’s in the package.
“What’s the name of the FedEx guy?” one child asks, while her twin sister tugs at my shirt, asking, “Does he have a dog too?” Meanwhile, the toddler whines, “I’m SO HUNGRY!” It’s a cacophony of little hands and loud voices. I can’t even think straight. I don’t want to raise my voice, but if they don’t stop clinging to me, no one is going to have lunch because I still have to prepare it.
“Please stop touching me and your sister. I need to make lunch.”
I’m trying to stay calm.
“Don’t touch that knife on the counter. It’s A KNIFE! Do I really have to say this? Get out of the kitchen so I can prepare lunch!”
I’m holding it together.
“Maybe you could tidy up some toys while I finish lunch? There are toys everywhere! Lunch is almost ready.”
I will not raise my voice.
“Did you really just hit your sister again? Stop poking at the trash! GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN RIGHT NOW AND DO WHAT I ASKED OR NO ONE IS GETTING LUNCH! EVER!”
They finally exit the kitchen, but I yelled. Great. I hate this. I feel like I’m failing at everything.
I sink to the kitchen floor and let the tears flow.
I cry because motherhood feels unending.
I cry because I’m exhausted and desperately need a shower.
I cry because it’s taking me an eternity to chop these plums.
And I cry because I adore these kids. They are wonderful and inquisitive, amusing yet complicated, and utterly exasperating. They deserve my patience, and yet today, it’s buried beneath an avalanche of demands, and I snapped at them instead.
I hear the clattering of dress-up shoes approaching.
“Mommy?”
Oh no, they found me. I quickly wipe my face.
“Mommy, why are you sitting on the floor?”
“Oh, I’m just taking a break. Lunch is almost ready.”
But the truth is, I’m not taking a break; I’m breaking.
Days like this—moments like this—when motherhood threatens to overwhelm me are incredibly difficult. I feel as if my life revolves entirely around others, leaving me depleted. I want to vanish.
Yet, I take a deep breath and remind myself that not every day is this challenging. Not every moment feels insurmountable. I focus on the sweet memory from this morning when my toddler woke up all smiles. Even though I was tired, I embraced her softness and breathed in her sweetness. Just two days ago, the house was relatively tidy, and that felt good.
I may be breaking, but I’m not broken. Honestly, I’m unsure how I’ll navigate through this turbulent phase of motherhood, and I’m not certain how I’ll make it through today. I suppose I’ll just tackle these plums first.
I rise and finish chopping the fruit. Lunch is nearly ready.
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In summary, while the challenges of motherhood can be overwhelming, it’s essential to acknowledge that not every moment is as hard as it seems. There will be brighter days ahead, and self-care is fundamental to navigating this journey.
Keyphrase: motherhood challenges
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