The worst part about motherhood is not the lack of sleep. It’s not the complete and unending exhaustion.
It isn’t the relentless breastfeeding, sore nipples, sore back, that deep and unfulfilled desire to move except you are tethered to another person providing life giving sustenance for an entire year (I gave up after 8 and 3 months respectively).
It isn’t the endless babble, the spontaneous and shocking ear-piercing noises, or incoherent stories as if told by your drunk uncle over holiday dinners. Children love to talk, scream, laugh, cry, basically just make a shit load of noise. It is incredibly distracting from the quiet spaces in the mind that produce thought. Thinking is almost impossible with children around, but that doesn’t even bother me much.
It doesn’t even bother me that I didn’t watch an entire movie for 5 years. I couldn’t get into any series for lack of actually hearing any of the dialogue. I missed all of The Walking Dead and American Horror Story because the kids could not even accidentally walk in on me watching them without creating months of nightly awakenings from nightmares.
It doesn’t bother me that they are old enough to wipe their own asses, but still insist on yelling across the house, “mommy….I’m done pooooooping!” Expecting me to stop what I’m doing and run to their side, finding their rear end stuck up in the air for ease of wiping. To which I reply sarcastically, “It is my greatest joy in life to wipe your booty!”
So what bothers me the most about having kids and being a mother?
I have to feed them. All the time!
Why so much??? Breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Snacks, too? I did not sign up for this. And why me? They never ask their dad for food. It’s the boobs, isn’t it? Like some kind of billboard for a meal. I am completely incompetent in the food department. They never like anything I make. I really try. They are so picky. And it goes on all day.
I’m hungry! I want something to eat! Snacks. Drinks. Candy. Chips. Always arguing over making healthy choices. I give in sometimes. I’m not proud. Just eat the damn chips! The youngest won’t eat turkey, but loves chicken. The oldest wants green apples not red. The oldest will drink milk, but only if it is chocolate milk. The youngest likes cheese but not string cheese. It’s insanity and it’s relentless.
Thank God for cereal. It seems to be the great equalizer. They both like cereal. And so far cereal seems to be life-sustaining. That and a good multivitamin. The gummy kind not Flintstones.