Most days I love my crazy life but I’m human and some days I wonder. Being a mother is suppose to complete you but when you’re doing it by yourself sometimes you feel alone. Being a mom is the hardest thing I’ll ever do but it’s the most rewarding title I’ll ever have.
I have a three-year old daughter. She has the most life I’ve ever seen from anyone. Her heart is pure, her mind is fresh, her life is blissful. My baby has no idea what it is to hate and what it is to love. Sadly, I do.
Some days I hate you more than others. How is it that one man can have so much responsibility but not actually tend to it? How come you get to roam freely while I push around a stroller. What’s even worse than you being free to do as you please is that my child doesn’t get that you’re shit. And I sure as hell won’t be the one to say break that to her. I’ll leave finding that out up to her.
Maybe I wouldn’t hate you so much if you were actually a parent rather than a babysitter. Actually, babysitters see children more than you see yours. How is it that you sleep at night? It’s probably because you don’t have a toddler waking you up at 2 am to go potty, or telling you they had a nightmare.
I love tending to the needs of my daughter but I’d also love to be 21 once in a while without worrying. I chose my path but not alone, you just happened to skip out of obligation much earlier than you were suppose to. I wonder what it’s like to be you? Do you wonder what it is like to be me and play both roles? Why do I hate your life yet admire it so much?
Maybe it’s because…
1) You can just go where ever you want and do whatever you please. Me? No way, first I have to make sure we use the potty, is she going to get hungry, will she be crabby because she hasn’t had a nap? Crap, is the stroller in the car? There is no simple outing with a three-year old.
2) Have you ever had people stare at you in the middle of the store because your toddler is throwing a fit? I have. It makes me want to cry, all those eyes on me, everyone judging me. Speaking of store, what’s it like to be able to try on clothes in a dressing room with out a toddler crawling under the door, or asking when we get to look at the toys. What is it like not to pick something up you like, only to have to put it down because your daughter found something and it made her world light up?
3) I can’t remember the last time I went out to eat and got to eat my food while it was still warm. What’s it like to go out to eat with someone and have actual conversation. My conversation usually consists of “mommy, blow on this.” “Mommy cut this up.” Mommy I’m full, let’s go bye-bye.” Or how is it, when you actually get to eat what you ordered? Half the time my child eats mine and I have to eat hers.
4) Speaking of dining with someone, what’s it like to date? I wouldn’t know, It’s only been three years. My dates consist of scooby doo and mac and cheese.
5) I miss a full night of sleep. Can you remind me how great it is not to be woken up in the middle of the night because it’s potty time or because she had a nightmare. What is it like to sleep without a toddler kicking you in your ribs or having to sleep in your arms.
6) I might hate you because you play family with your girlfriend and my child. Maybe its because you take credit for things i’ve done, potty training, manners, clothing, her intelligence. All of that stuff is me, I did that, by MYSELF.
Most of all I hate you because my baby thinks you’re wonderful. The ten hours you spend with her a month makes her think you’re the best thing to walk the earth. It’s funny because you think the exact same way about yourself. Of course its great, you don’t have to enforce any rules, you don’t have to deal with time outs or wrongs and rights. You get to play games, have fun at the park. What do i get to do? Well I have to make meals, read bedtime stories, make bath time a game. I have to balance being a home maker, being a student, being mom. I work, I go to school, I run my daughter to all her activities, I, sir, am supermom. However, you are not worthy of my child’s love.