My ears literally ring from the silence the moment my kids are asleep. It’s like I’ve been standing right next to the speakers at a rock concert and the silence on the drive home is deafening. Something occurs in that stretch of the night between dinner and bed. Is there a technical name for it?
Chaos comes to mind.
There’s a definite switch involved. We go from sweetly eating dinner at the table to running, spinning, throwing pillows, shrieking and jumping off furniture in less than 10 seconds. I’m usually mid-dishwasher load when I look up to see my children turn into a pack of wild monkeys.
Trying to tame such wild creatures is a nightly challenge. There’s chasing, repeating directions, sometimes frustration. If I can remember they’re just kids having fun, releasing all those last bits of energy and sleep fighting bubbles in one big burst, I can usually find creative ways to work with the craziness.
Some nights though, well… some nights I want to be a little blanket burrito and hide from it all. Escape to a quiet retreat filled with silence and books and hot coffee and cozy chairs. I could breathe there. I could drink a hot beverage that’s actually hot there. I could…. and there it is. The guilt.
I start hearing phrases like, blink and it will be over…or it goes so fast, enjoy every second.
I get that, I really do. I’ve already seen how quickly our time is going. I do try to cherish every second. I breathe in the sweet laughter, I eat up the kisses and neck squeezes. I try to memorize their little faces because some days they wake up looking a whole year older.
I do all of those things. I also get a hot breakfast on the table. I empty and load the dishwasher twice. I fold a basket of clothes that I cannot see over because it’s a mountain. I make sure homework gets done, lunch gets packed, dinner gets cooked, kids get chauffeured, groceries get bought and put away, and everyone gets bathed and in bed on time. That’s just on an easy day.
The nightly crazy crew is just one example of a daily situation I can struggle with. There are others and sometimes things just happen that are hard to handle.
Mama, guess what? I am doing a good job. You are doing a good job.
No matter what our days look like we are doing a good job and trying our best. Some days are cereal for dinner because mommy is just too tired to cook. So? Turn on some goofy music and make it a cereal party. Some days it feels like we’ve yelled more than we loved. So? Rest your weary mommy brain, wake up the next day and give triple the hugs.
We can’t be perfect moms all the time. We can’t even be perfect moms most of the time. We can never be perfect moms actually. We can be always learning moms. We can be trying our best moms. We can be use a difficult day to teach a lesson moms. We can be a try again tomorrow moms. We can be I’m sorry I got frustrated, let’s try this again moms.
If you’re feeling tired or defeated or like you’re failing, you’re not alone! We’ve all been there and we will all make that trip many more times. Just know, if you’re even feeling that way it means you’re trying and you care and you’re doing a good job!
Feel the support of other moms in the same season pushing you forward, knowing they are surviving too. Stand back up, dry your eyes and keep going! Don’t let that bad moment or bad day turn into a bad week. There’s always a way to turn it around.
Yes, be a blanket burrito sometimes, but then roll on out of there and keep being amazing!