Where Cori Begins and Mother Ends

I started out this morning, writing a very introspective piece about the winter blues. But, as the words flowed from my mind to my fingertips, the theme slowly shifted to another battle that I have within myself.

I struggle with being an individual and being a mother. Most of the time, I don’t feel like I can be both at once.

If you were to run into me today and ask me what my purpose in life is, my focus, my end-game, I would say that I just wanted to raise my children to be good people. 

I spend about 90% of my day thinking about, or doing things for, my children. I open my eyes every morning to the face of one of my kids staring back at me, and I go to sleep every night asking God to be with them. Even things that are seemingly for me, I do to make our routine smoother or to make my little family happy or proud. Cleaning the house, cooking, organizing, working, it’s not just for me anymore. And, as I think about my purpose, even if I circle away from being a mother just once, it comes back around to just that. The children are such a huge part of my life right now, embedded within almost every single activity of my day. It’s near impossible not to focus on that aspect of my life.

In fact, how many mothers out there noticed that I didn’t include the role of “wife” within this post yet? If you did, good for you. If you didn’t, I get it! Because, Heath and I, at some point, put our relationship on the backburner and moved the kids right up to the front. It’s not something we discussed or did intentionally. It just happened. Just as, the day I saw two lines on that pregnancy test, “individual Cori” packed up her skinny clothes, expensive shoes, impractical bras and underwear, and waved goodbye. Mother Cori moved in – with her dark circles, mom-bod issues, and quick fuse for things that she can’t control. She may have also brought several pairs of black tights, t-shirts, and sweatshirts. It is what it is…

There have been points in my motherhood, thus far, when I was so wrapped up in the children that I completely lost sight of myself – and certainly lost sight of Heath (unless it was to beckon him for assistance with the kids). One day, however, the kids were slow getting around for the day, came home to just complain about being bored, and then wouldn’t eat what I cooked for supper. Feelings, that I wasn’t quite aware of, or had been ignoring, just came bubbling out. I started in on a lecture about how spoiled they were, how they take everything they have and everything I do for granted, how I give, give, and give some more, and they don’t appreciate it. I quickly realized that I was resentful. To no fault of my children, I put all of my focus and energy in them, and was mad that they didn’t appreciate it. Of course they didn’t. They didn’t even notice that I was pouring my being into them. How could they?

I knew then that I had to start doing things for myself again. It wasn’t just an excuse for “unmotherly” behavior. It was to make me a better mom. I didn’t want to feel resentful. It made me grumpy and irritable, and I wasn’t being a good role model to the kids. What is it that they always say? You can’t pour from an empty cup? Well, yeah, and in my version, my cup was empty and theirs were overflowing onto the floor. Then, of course, I was having to clean up the mess.

It is an active effort to make time for myself. I try to schedule girls’ nights out, try to do an activity each week that is something that I want to do, take at least an hour in the evening to watch TV or read a book. But, it is a constant struggle. There is a lot of guilt involved. And when you don’t feel like you need to be doing something for the kids, you feel like you need to be doing something for your husband. The balancing act is extremely difficult and I suck at it the majority of the time. 

My cycle is this: give, give, give, get angry, be selfish, restart.

And, it is truly no one’s fault but my own. I do it to myself. I keep thinking that I can give, give, give, and then not be affected by it. Until, I am. Then, I’m reminded to focus on me a little too. In fact, when I get my head out of the Lucy, Olive, and Henry clouds, I kind of panic. If I lose sight of myself while raising children, what is going to happen when they’re all out of the house? Will I even know myself? Will Heath even know me anymore?

I have to make time for me. And, to step up onto a soapbox for a second, we have to stop making moms feel guilty about that. 

Take your friend up on the invitation to go out. Don’t feel bad for getting a sitter two weekends in a row. Buy the outfit. Go workout for half an hour. Don’t shame another mom because she is having a beer while cooking dinner. Do the thing, say yes to the thing, enjoy the thing. Focus on you.

If you do it, then I will be reminded to do it too. 

And, if you do it, I will grasp the value in it again. 

And, if you do it, then I won’t feel so guilty choosing me every once in a while as well. 

See how that works? (Stepping down from my soapbox now.)

I’ve seen someone compare motherhood to the oxygen masks on planes. You are supposed to put yours on first. Then, help the person next to you. While I completely understand and respect this concept, I wonder about actually experiencing this scenario. How many of you, in a state of panic, would totally start to put your child’s on first? I am almost certain that I would at least reach for theirs before reminding myself to “follow the rules.” 

I think, for a lot of us, our instincts tell us that our children come first. They are the most important. Who cares what happens to me?! Take care of my babies! Am I right?

But…if you are fighting for air, you can’t help your babies…

I know you wanna pour your cup into theirs, and reach for their masks first, because you love them more than anything in this entire world. But, remember yourself. Keep your eye on her. When you are balanced and happy, your home is balanced and happy.

This is your reminder. This is my reminder.

Sacrifice

We aren’t supposed to talk about the sacrifices we make to be mothers.

Yes – we will acknowledge that we give up our bodies (ugh!), our money, and our free-time. And, of course, we follow up any complaint with, “But, I’d do it all again for those beautiful babies!”

And, that last part is true.

Well, it’s true for me, and I think most mothers. You love those babies so much it hurts. The thought of losing them cuts deep, deep into your soul; it takes you to such a dark place that you can’t even fathom the possibility of it. 

But, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I’m going to talk about the other sacrifices we make as mothers. 

When I considered having children, people would drop little hints of the unknown sacrifices. But, with a huge smile on their face and a giggle, they would say, “But, it is the most wonderful thing in the world!” Which, it really is the most wonderful thing in the world…Yet, I soon realized that the snicker, that little laugh, that was a tiny concealed glimpse into reality. They giggled, because it’s hell, and you just may lose yourself in the process. 

Let’s talk a little more about how you sacrifice your time. No, not just that the hours you used to spend watching television or going out. You give up every single minute of every single day. If you aren’t with the kids, you are cleaning up after them, washing their clothes, preparing snacks for school, washing jerseys, laying out clothes for tomorrow, and so on. You try to have adult conversations with your husband, but even those will be interrupted with multiple taps on the hip or a billion, “Mamma. Mamma. Mammas.” Even sleeping is not safe. You will find yourself getting angrily shaken awake multiple times a night, and no night’s sleep is ever guaranteed.

And, in your sleepless state, you will sacrifice your mind. The kids have made me a bit crazy, yes. However, what I mean is: you never think the same way again. The world becomes so much more terrifying. The metal slide you once looked at with nostalgia, has become a tetanus nightmare of heat and sharp edges. That weird old man that you’d just walk by with a nod and a half-smile…is a potential child-abductor. And, anytime you watch the news, you get sick to your stomach thinking about raising your children in this world we live in.  And, if your perspectives haven’t changed, then your thoughts have. Because, once you have kids, every second of every single day (broken record!), you think about them. It’s not obsessive. But, everything you do is in consideration of them. Even planning a night out…where will the kids go? Are they all healthy? Will the sleep well? What should I pack? Should I send snacks with them? What time do I have to be back to pick them up? Should we leave their car seats? Will they be able to get ahold of us? Should we not drink, just in case there is an emergency?

Sometimes, instead of the planning, you sacrifice your plans. I think this one is probably pretty taboo to even mention. And, it is very likely that I am just a selfish person, which I wouldn’t completely disagree with…

Not too long ago, we had some friends getting together. It’s the middle of winter; so, we all have a bit of cabin-fever. Heath and I were feeling overwhelmed with the house, our work, the kids’ winter craziness, and so on. Going out with some friends and having a laugh sounded great. But, we couldn’t find a sitter. We had to bow out, while other friends still got together. And…it made me mad. I was mad that we couldn’t go.

I was ever madder that no one ever told me that I would feel that way. I knew that I had to give up going out, unless I found a sitter. But, no one said, “You are really going to need a break, and sometimes you just won’t be able to do anything that you want to do, and it sucks.” Because, that’s true. There are days, weeks even, that I don’t do anything that I want to do. Most days I can squeeze in some of my garbage television programs or some Pinterest surfing after bedtime. But, other days I do nothing “for me.” 

And, as far as Heath goes? Ha! Heath who? Oh, the guy I wake up every night, when crawling into bed late, because I insist on staying up to have five seconds to myself? Oh, yeah, that guy. I wouldn’t know, because I have sacrificed my relationship too – or, at least parts of it. That may be a bit dramatic. But, I believe it to be mostly true. We have to literally work on ways to connect. We have to make effort to even have conversations! We have to have date nights, and daily texts, just to feel like we are doing more than co-parenting as really great roommates. And, full-disclosure, sex becomes this quiet, rushed thing, which happens in the same place, behind a locked door. Anything more is just gonna have to wait until the kids are out of the house, or we’re 50…

Now, this isn’t supposed to be a “don’t have kids” post. Because, they are wonderful and they make my heart so incredibly full, and I seriously would do it again. But….we have to stop making it seem easy. I feel like our generation is the first to stand up and be like, hey! WTF? This is way harder than anyone said it was going to be and anyone else made it look. Everyone has been hiding the work, the difficulty, the struggle. It isn’t realistic, and exactly who are we hiding it for?

It is hard. It is so hard. It’s time. It’s money. It’s work. It’s patience. And, it is a lot of sacrifice.

I’d do it again. Yes. But, I’d be lying if I wasn’t mad sometimes about how much I have to give. I give, and I give, and I give. And, sometimes, I just want to do what I want to do. And, sometimes, I get mad that I can’t. And, that’s okay. It is okay to feel selfish. We signed up for this, yes. But, we didn’t decide to bottle our feelings and pretend they don’t exist.

So, let’s stop pretending that we’re all happy to give our everything. Because, I for one, struggle with it sometimes. And, I can’t be the only one…

(Oh, and, a little thank you from the kids would help too. That should happen sometime…hmmm…never.)