This past weekend was yet another whirlwind for my family. Between my husband and I working full-time, our two toddlers who need us all the time, and a house renovation that takes up every spare second we have, we were completely exhausted. To our kids, weekends are time to play, but to us they're a time to recover from yet another physically, emotionally, and mentally taxing week. Yesterday I lost my temper and yelled (more than once), and was immediately consumed by guilt because of it and the feeling associated with it. I tried to remind myself that, sometimes, wishing you weren't someone's mom is normal, and that feeling that way doesn't make me a "bad mom," but my efforts to rid myself of the guilt fall short all too often, and definitely did yesterday.
Some days I absolutely slay motherhood (in my humble option but other days I consider a complete fail in my book of motherhood. Yesterday was, without a doubt, one of those "fail" days. I was so tired that I could barely stay awake, yet both of my boys were running full speed, demanding my attention as I watched them wreck the house from the comfort of the couch. I made lunches that they refused to eat, then they requested snacks that I refused to hand out. They stomped their feet and threw their toys and rebelled against my every effort. They yelled, then I yelled, then they cried, then I cried. "I just don't want to be a parent today." I told my husband, as I threw a strawberry filled granola bar onto our freshly cleaned table. In an effort to save our sanity, we put our boys to bed earlier than usual. When we returned to our living room, we both fell onto our couch and let out a long sigh of relief as we surveyed the disaster zone that was our home. We looked at each other, both with the same look of guilt and regret in our eyes, and promised that tomorrow would be better.
Our boys were asleep moments later, and once our house was quiet enough for us to hear our own thoughts again, we were able to remember how freakin' much we love those little tornadoes while simultaneously cleaning up the remnants of their day. That is just one of the many days that, at times, make me not want to mom. I know that those days aren't the norm, but I also know that more of those days are ahead of me. Honestly, being a parent is hard and it's OK to sometimes not want to parent anymore, because, well, this: