Motherhood has taught me it is possible to love and hate something at the same time. I know what you’re thinking. How can I use the word motherhood and hate in the same sentence? Hate is such a strong word! But before you judge me, just hear me out.
School Never Ends…
I hate packing lunches. Every. Single. Day. My kids are picky and trying to find clever ways to offer my kids a variety of options based on their immature palates is a daunting task. But I love picking out the perfect, unexpected treat or dropping an encouraging note in their lunchbox. Unpacking lunchboxes, I discover my food selections were a success and they’ve kept every note I’ve written hidden in the side pocket.
I hate homework and projects. Remember the day you graduated and swore you’d never have to take another test or participate in another group project? Gosh, we were so naïve! Decades later, here I am…making flashcards, buying poster board, and desperate for a math tutor.
Because, despite my four-year college degree, it is no secret that I am in over my head with middle school homework. School is not what it used to be for my generation and it shows! Long gone are the simple days of math. Our eighth-grader is in all advanced classes which leaves me feeling very, well, un-advanced. Much like a game show, I encourage her to phone a friend or ask the audience (you know… Google, Alexa, YouTube…anyone but me!). But I love that my kids ask me anyway so we can problem solve and be creative together. And truthfully, I welcome any excuse to bust out my favorite art supplies and color-code something on a poster board. Although the department of education wouldn’t likely approve, I can teach them in my own way.
The Way It Used To Be…
I hate that my body has never been the same since having children. Dry skin, overactive bladder, weight gain, thyroid issues, yada…yada…yada. Making fun of my own mother for needing to cross her legs when she sneezed or coughed too hard has come back to haunt me! She said it would. And it did. Touché, mom… touché! But I love that I am a work in progress and my body grew two humans inside of it. I love that I have the opportunity to teach my daughters that the only person’s opinion of me that matters, is mine. Loving our bodies and ourselves for who we are and what we will be is a lesson I am capable of teaching!
Lazy weekend mornings, a quiet cup of coffee, and freely running errands without a care in the world are all things of the past. Everything I do now revolves around my children. I hate that I can never get a moment to myself without someone needing something from me. Jumping out of the shower with shampoo in my hair and eyes because my kids are knocking on the bathroom door asking for a snack, even when their father is in the kitchen. But I love that my children trust me to take care of them.
Everything Changes…
I hate that my children have a million things to do. With their love of volleyball and sailing and after school socializing with friends, I am a full-time taxi. Except I’m not allowed to charge a fare. They have me going in a dozen different directions, often at the same time, and I need a calendar just to manage their busy schedules. My schedule revolves around their schedule. But I love that my children have hobbies, love sports, and are building friendships. I love that they enjoy our sing-a-longs in the car even if they do dictate the music selection. If I’m lucky, they’ll throw a few “old school” songs on the playlist because they know my favorite jams.
I hate the lack of sleep. Cluster feedings, colic, nightmares, a stomach bug raging through a toddler in the middle of the night, a weeks’ worth of worrying over impending results of volleyball tryouts…you name it. The list goes on and on. There is never a shortage of things to worry about. As mothers, we never stop worrying and stressing about worst-case scenarios that are so farfetched and unlikely to ever happen. But I love that my children still need me, even if that need looks different over time. They need me to tuck them in at night, to share in their good news of the day, or to make them chicken soup when they’ve taken ill.
The Greatest Love is Motherhood…
I’d never known love in its purest form until I became a mother. The good days far outweigh the tough ones. The same kids I crave a break from for a moment of peace and quiet are the same kids I miss the moment I walk out the door. Motherhood is strange like that.
I will hate the day my children move out to start their own lives, independent of me; when they won’t rely on me for day-to-day things that I certainly take for granted now. I pray they will always need me on some level and hope they know that being their mother has been the greatest gift.
Motherhood is a love/hate relationship.
The hardships are worth the reward. Never let anyone tell you otherwise!
