They share a room (the older two, at least). They share food. They share clothing, toys (we do not buy two or three of everything just because there are three of them), the garden hose, and germs (boy oh boy do they share germs). They share books during story time, Oliver leaning into Milo as he slowly turns the pages. They share space in the bath tub and on my lap, wrestling time with Andrew and time on the swing in our back yard.
But I think the hardest thing they have to share is time with me or Andrew. It’s a major source of guilt these days. Though Milo is growing up and has always been a very independent kid, he is still only 5, and he often seeks out my attention at the worst possible times. During lunch and dinner prep, he suddenly wants to play Uno. As soon as I have to wipe the bottom of a little brother or change a diaper or sweep up yet another broken plate courtesy of Emil, he wants me to read to him. Then the dog runs through the house with muddy paws and heads upstairs for my pillow, no doubt. When I need to put Emil down for a nap, Milo yearns to ride his bike up and down the sidewalk.
I find myself saying 2,311,891 times a day “Just a minute, Milo,” “In a couple minutes, Buddy,” “Try to wait a little longer.” It sucks. To try to head off this problem, I give Milo and Oliver lots of attention when we’re not in crisis mode, but you know how everything seems to fall apart all at once? It’s sort of the story of our lives right now. As in, everyone is playing quietly and nicely, and then suddenly, they’re not.
And I know this will pass. Because the more they can do for themselves, the more independent they become, the less urgent their needs will be. I will have time. I will say “YES!” enthusiastically instead of “In just a minute,” knowing full well it will be more like ten.
There are parts of motherhood that I find completely lonely and crazy-making. These parts, no one warned me about. They are not the moments grandmothers and aunts and family friends tell you about when you are bringing your first babe into the world. Probably because they are so fleeting, and they are not the parts of motherhood we want to remember, but they are there, and when you are in the thick of them, they can pull you down underwater just long enough to remind you that you are dependent on that breath and you’d better swim back up and take charge of it. You had better breathe.
Part of motherhood is sharing a piece of yourself, no, many pieces of yourself with your children. And let me say that the more kids you have, the more pieces you have to dish out, only the pieces are smaller because there’s only so much of you to go around, and those kids are still hungry for more of you. I cried today thinking about this. Mom as pie.
Of course, sharing yourself is a wonderful, giving, amazing thing to do. I think it is making me a stronger and better person- a person who can understand strangers so much better. They are all someone’s sons and daughters. They all need someone. I never thought of life that way before becoming a mother.
But sometimes, I don’t want to share. I am two years old again, only this time, pulling on a piece of my self, yelling, “MINE!” while my parents look on with worry.
I think it’s fair, given all the loving and grateful and joyful posts I write about my family and my boys, to show the other side. How I feel on those other days, stripped down to the bare, ugly, sometimes selfish truth. I want to do whatever I want sometimes.
I want all the pieces for myself.
Lauren, thank you so much. Even with just one child, I find myself surprised when I want to hold onto that one last piece of food, that I would like to eat and not share. Or wondering why I just want to sit by myself for a few minutes. Then, feeling guilty that I can’t give more or be more. But, I think in order for me to be a whole mom, finding small ways to have all of the pieces of myself, to myself, hopefully will make me more loving, more nurturing, more patient.
Don’t we all? I find myself saying “no” too often these days, sometimes just as a knee jerk reaction before truly considering the question. I think kids can sense when parents are distracted and feel more needy because of it, desperate to have a piece of that attention for themselves. I strongly believe in keeping a piece reserved for me, just need to be better about when and how. I bet Mom Pie is delicious, everybody wants some. (I mean that in a totally food-only and not weird-gross way.)
Oh Lauren, thank you for this post! I have been struggling, struggling, struggling with all the sharing of ME. I’m so tired of it. I want so badly to go off on my own for a day or two and not have to say, “Just a minute,” or “No,” or anything (negative) related to motherhood.
My three children are truly needy right now. My almost-5 year old boy is suddenly into hugs from mommy, and I can’t help but wonder if he is feeling left out (even tho he is an independent play by himself kind of guy). I’ve been very shrieky to my 3 year old lately, who seems to need me for potty & books & milk. And then there’s the baby…who I admit I want to give all my time to because he is just so damn easy and loveable because he can’t talk & therefore does not demand (verbally) anything. It makes me feel terrible. And yet, the other part is, “What about ME?!!”
Thank you for sharing! Thank you for being real.
I needed to read this today. My daughter and I have been traveling for 5 weeks without my husband and I am brokendown, exhausted and feeling so selfish. My lady FINALLY went down for a nap after an hour of rocking and crying (both of us,) I am getting some much needed “me time,” at the moment. What feels like the first in weeks. Being a Mama is incredible but the most challenging thing I have ever done..and I just have ONE:) Sometimes it is nice to be reminded that I am not alone.
While the two older kids were downstairs playing, I took the last cookie from the kitchen and ate it while snuggling with my 5 month old. It was glorious and so nice not to have to share with him!
This post is perfection.
i love this post, everything about it and every response as well. it is so refreshing to this new mama (with another on the way) to be reassured that every mother feels like this. i had a moment yesterday when Lucy wouldn’t nap (AGAIN) after not enough sleep at night, and me (pregnant and exhausted) trying to walk her in the Ergo and rock her and doing everything i could possibly think of while she fussed and cried, when I just wanted to scream and slam doors, and i remembered my own mom sometimes just LOSING IT (she had five) and i suddenly understood. not just in a pat-her-on-the-back kinda way, but a truly heartfelt, heart-through way. every momma just wants to bellow out sometimes, to cry, to rip her hair out. i think it is just the nature of being so fully needed. even the dads don’t get this completely unless maybe they are stay-at-home dads or the primary caregiver. it is a strain i never fully imagined in all the years i tried to conceive and dreamed of becoming a mother, and i am glad for it in the way that i feel it is making me a stronger woman, a more patient person, a more generous human being. but dang, it can be hard! and the worst is the guilt, you feel like you somehow betrayed this precious little person who needs you SO MUCH. and your heart continues to explode with love. anyway, thank you so much for this and all your wonderful, humorous, enriching posts!
Oh, Heather! I feel your pain! I mean, that sounds miserable, and I’ve been there, and I just hated feeling that way- completely exhausted, at your wit’s end, etc. There will be many more moments like this, but try to get some help (and sleep) whenever you can. Take it from me, you have to swallow your pride about the help thing if you’re going to survive!
I was just talking to a fellow mama a few nights ago about how completely isolated we are as mothers these days, yet we live in close proximity to so many strangers. We are far away from family and friends, thus far away from much-needed help. I honestly don’t think we humans were designed for this kind of life. Something has to give!