A Letter to My Friends
Dear my pre-children friends,
I love
you. I cherish your friendships and the memories we made before I had
children. I love when we get to spend time together, or even just chat
on the phone. I love hearing about your days and how you are excited for the things that are happening in your life. I rejoice when things are great, and cry for you when things don't go so well. A chat or visit from you can be just what my soul needs.
I know we don't get to spend as much time together as we used to. And I'm sorry. But I need you to understand something. I'm tired. Really tired. My days are spent with two children who need me more than anyone or anything else needs me right now. In any given moment, I could be a teacher, a referee, a coach, a taxi driver, a lawyer, a gymnasium, a nurse, a maid, a cook, or a warm place to fall. The soundtrack of my day consists of fighting, crying, whining, laughing, and toddler I love yous. The scents of poop, pee, baby puke, and my own body odor permeate my nostrils more than I'd like to admit. But then there's also the beautiful smells of a baby's head, sunshine, and dirt. I've learned to just accept the endless toys that are constantly all over the house, as well as the scribbled works of art that now adorn my refrigerator. In the time it takes to blink, I experience extreme and utter love followed by the desperate wish that I could drop my kids off somewhere so that I could have just five minutes where I don't have to worry that the baby is going to play in the toilet or swallow a sticker. I dream of going pee alone without having anyone else trying to "help" me. My idea of "me-time" consists of going grocery shopping alone or doing normal hygiene things like having a shower. I can barely keep my relationship with my husband alive and thriving. Date nights are spent on the couch and are usually interrupted at least once by a child. We try to make sure we get this time, but it's not as easy as I thought it would be before I had kids. When I have a moment without kids, sometimes I just want to relish in the quiet. And sometimes I need to talk with another mom friend because her kids are also going through the same things.
I know what you might be thinking. I "asked" for this by having kids. And I suppose you're right. But that doesn't mean that I can't admit that it's hard. Because it is. Very. Harder than I ever imagined. Don't get me wrong. I love my kids very much. I wouldn't change my life for anything. It's still hard. But everyone has hard parts in their lives. It's hard to remember that when you are in the thick of a hard part of your own life though. A friend of mine recently posted something on Facebook that really resonated with me. "Sometimes when life feels hard, I remember that everyone's life feels hard sometimes. Just different circumstances." So friends, I am trying to remember that though my life may be feeling hard, yours may be too. Please give me a little slack as I try to negotiate through the highs and lows of parenting, and I will do the same for you as you negotiate through your own highs and lows. Eventually, I will be out of this crazy time of my life. My kids won't need me so much, and I'll probably grieve the days that they did. But when that time comes, I promise to make up for being so absent for these years. In the meantime, please know that I love you and that though I've changed, I am still the same person you made those memories with.
Love your very tired friend,
Me.
I know we don't get to spend as much time together as we used to. And I'm sorry. But I need you to understand something. I'm tired. Really tired. My days are spent with two children who need me more than anyone or anything else needs me right now. In any given moment, I could be a teacher, a referee, a coach, a taxi driver, a lawyer, a gymnasium, a nurse, a maid, a cook, or a warm place to fall. The soundtrack of my day consists of fighting, crying, whining, laughing, and toddler I love yous. The scents of poop, pee, baby puke, and my own body odor permeate my nostrils more than I'd like to admit. But then there's also the beautiful smells of a baby's head, sunshine, and dirt. I've learned to just accept the endless toys that are constantly all over the house, as well as the scribbled works of art that now adorn my refrigerator. In the time it takes to blink, I experience extreme and utter love followed by the desperate wish that I could drop my kids off somewhere so that I could have just five minutes where I don't have to worry that the baby is going to play in the toilet or swallow a sticker. I dream of going pee alone without having anyone else trying to "help" me. My idea of "me-time" consists of going grocery shopping alone or doing normal hygiene things like having a shower. I can barely keep my relationship with my husband alive and thriving. Date nights are spent on the couch and are usually interrupted at least once by a child. We try to make sure we get this time, but it's not as easy as I thought it would be before I had kids. When I have a moment without kids, sometimes I just want to relish in the quiet. And sometimes I need to talk with another mom friend because her kids are also going through the same things.
I know what you might be thinking. I "asked" for this by having kids. And I suppose you're right. But that doesn't mean that I can't admit that it's hard. Because it is. Very. Harder than I ever imagined. Don't get me wrong. I love my kids very much. I wouldn't change my life for anything. It's still hard. But everyone has hard parts in their lives. It's hard to remember that when you are in the thick of a hard part of your own life though. A friend of mine recently posted something on Facebook that really resonated with me. "Sometimes when life feels hard, I remember that everyone's life feels hard sometimes. Just different circumstances." So friends, I am trying to remember that though my life may be feeling hard, yours may be too. Please give me a little slack as I try to negotiate through the highs and lows of parenting, and I will do the same for you as you negotiate through your own highs and lows. Eventually, I will be out of this crazy time of my life. My kids won't need me so much, and I'll probably grieve the days that they did. But when that time comes, I promise to make up for being so absent for these years. In the meantime, please know that I love you and that though I've changed, I am still the same person you made those memories with. Love your very tired friend,
Me.
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