Here’s a little secret as we approach Mother’s Day: Motherhood can be downright brutal.
I’ve always dreamed of having kids, but I never envisioned myself at home, knee-deep in messes, perpetually sleep-deprived, all while attempting to smile through arts and crafts as chaos swirls around me. It feels like I’m playing a terrible tune on my violin while everything crumbles. It’s relentless.
Sure, I could claim that it’s fulfilling, but let’s be honest—that’s just not true. There’s no recognition in motherhood. It’s all about survival.
At this point, you might fall into one of two camps: horrified and gearing up to lecture me on the wonders of motherhood, or nodding along so vigorously that you might get whiplash.
Motherhood resembles launching a startup without a clear product. You’re inventing parenting strategies on the fly, testing them every few minutes, and navigating critics who are all too eager to judge based on a fleeting glance of your worst moments in the grocery store. And just like any startup, failure is a high probability. If there were awards for failing spectacularly, I would be a champion. #Winning!
When I say motherhood sucks, it doesn’t mean I don’t deeply love my kids. I would do anything for them—even take on anyone who threatens their happiness. My children are well aware of this, even if my maternal struggles are hard to ignore. There’s a unique bond we share during those rare, peaceful moments when no one is arguing or racing against the clock. That’s a special love that’s entirely ours—none of your business.
I thrive on external validation: praise, promotions, and acknowledgment for a job well done. The perks of working life? I crave them. Annual evaluations? Bring it on. Engaging conversations that don’t revolve around “why” or involve slamming doors, stomping feet, or tears—now that’s my jam. I seek recognition from others, and I’m unashamed of it. While I don’t need you to like me, I certainly expect you to notice me.
Kids crave that same attention. It’s a little competition between the four of us: my brilliant, athletic son; my witty, empathetic daughter; my loveable, anxious dog; and me (the husband doesn’t even stand a chance).
I want to be acknowledged for more than packing lunch with chocolate milk. I deserve a thank-you beyond just remembering homework, library books, and crucial projects. I didn’t sign up for this endless cycle of appreciation deprivation.
I always envisioned raising children with whom I could explore the world, shaping their minds, sharing wisdom, and nurturing future leaders. I dreamed of engaging dialogues, thoughtful debates, and collaborative problem-solving. I have fond memories of my childhood and cherish the adult friendship I have with my own parents.
The best part of my previous career experiences was the vibrant corporate culture. Perhaps it’s the “corporate” environment that’s lacking here, or maybe my team just isn’t old enough for a proper performance review. It seems the journey to my ideal version of motherhood is paved with sleepless nights, heaps of laundry, the dreaded teenage years, and ungrateful little humans. In the end, there’s no glory in motherhood—just the struggle to get by.
May the odds be ever in my favor.
For those considering the path to parenthood, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and explore fertility options at Make a Mom for helpful supplements. For men looking to boost their chances, this guide can provide invaluable insights.
Summary
Motherhood is often portrayed as a beautiful journey, but for many, it can feel overwhelming and thankless. This article captures the raw, unfiltered reality of parenting, emphasizing the lack of accolades and the continuous struggle for validation. While the love for children is immense, the daily grind can overshadow the joy. It’s an honest reflection for those navigating the unpredictable waters of motherhood.
Keyphrase: Motherhood struggles
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]