I always had a particular image of motherhood in mind. This image was perpetuated by movies, commercials, pop culture, my own upbringing, and has recently been updated by social media. It was things like family cuddles in bed on weekend mornings, happily baking cookies together, or simply watching my kids play peacefully together. But now, reality has taken its place. Being woken up at 4:00am for the day is more akin to torture. Baking cookies together means an extra mess and another tantrum to manage. Moments of my daughters playing peacefully together quickly turn into arguments when I have to step in as a referee. I feel myself constantly trying to force my current version of reality to fit the one I had in mind.
I walked into my second pregnancy blissfully unaware and unequipped for life with two under two. Not that anyone could have prepare me for it anyway. During the newborn stage, I told myself that once my youngest turns one, everything will get easier. I thought of this as a sort of milestone and used every ounce of my energy to get this goalpost. That first year was chaos. Somehow, we even managed to move country amidst it all. But my baby recently reached her milestone first birthday, and things are still largely the same. Metaphorically it’s like I signed up for a 100-meter sprint but just when I am about to reach the finish line, they tell me that it is in fact a triathlon and I have no other choice but to continue. I knew raising two young kids would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard.
For one, it was how much of my own time I realised I needed to function at a basic level. I’ve always enjoyed time alone to reflect and process. Before kids I used to spend hours on weekends writing, walking, listening to music. I’ve always been creative and used my time alone to gather my thoughts. It’s in my creativity that I feel free and connected to myself in a healthy and sustainable way. I didn’t realise how much time alone I needed until it was slowly stripped away from me. Even basic things like seeing a doctor or going to the dentist needs to be prioritised and evaluated. I have to ask myself if it is really that necessary to take this time for myself. Our life is busier than ever now. I know this is a normal part of adulthood for many of us. You get more and more responsibilities the older you get. But at least with a regular job, no matter how busy it is, you can at least take the day off if you are ill. You can also skip out for an hour to get a cavity filled. As a parent, you are expected to still be everything no matter how sick and awful you feel. You end up feeling guilty for not doing anything the way you imagined you would. You vent to your friends, and they tell you that it’s ok, you are doing your best. My therapist used to tell me it’s the repair that matters most, not the rupture. As much as I want to accept this, I know that I have a childhood in the palm of my hands. These days right now will shape who my daughters will become. I know I can’t be perfect, but damn, it might kill me because I can’t help but try.
The thing that no one tells you is your journey of motherhood is as unique as you are as a person. Everyone experiences it so differently. We each have different levels of support available. Some have a large support network while others don’t. Some have helpful parents, others don’t. Some can afford a nanny or a weekly babysitter, others can’t. Some have helpful partners, others don’t. Some of us require a lot of time alone, others need a little bit. Some are good with 5 hours of sleep, others aren’t. Some thrive as a stay-at-home parent while others wilt. My husband and I make a good team as we navigate this intense journey as parents, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t shaken us and our sturdy foundation. We must communicate and work together like our lives depend on it. It feels like we are sailors living on a tiny boat in an incredible tough ocean, crashing through the currents and navigating the stormy oceans while also needing a toilet break from time to time. There is rarely any time to watch the beauty that surrounds, it’s just constant go-go-go. There are occasional moments when I see the beauty. I can pause for a moment knowing we got through a tough patch and our boat won’t capsize immediately. I can zoom out of my life and all of its details and know that one day the oceans will be less stormy. One day our current problems will be replaced with new and different ones. I remind myself not to get caught up in ‘destination addiction.’
The whole motherhood gig has humbled and crumbled me. It’s punctured a hole and slowly deflated the romantic balloon that was motherhood. It’s reminded me that I’m not as special or interesting as I once thought and that I simultaneously mean the world to these tiny little people. It builds me up and smashes me down. Sometimes multiple times a day. It’s forced me to reevaluate who I am, and who I want to be in the world now. It forces me to identify and connect with my own intuition, which is hard to hear in a sea of so many other voices and opinions. It’s forcing me to change and evolve. It’s like watching the person I was light up in flames and the person I’m becoming is still being built. Every day I have to learn to let go of perfection and do my best, moment by moment.
Today as my husband and I were running around trying to get everyone and everything ready to get the door, I could hear the kids laughing uncontrollably. I peeked in the room and saw them laying on the floor in the bedroom. My eldest was flinging the spring door stopper and my baby was throwing her head back in a fit of laughter. I stopped and thought to myself this might be a memory that will stay with them forever. A little moment that they will laugh about as adults. It just about brought tears my eyes. This is their childhood; it’s all happening right now. I just want it to be the best. I want every day to be special. Despite my own stress leaving the house to do something cool and exciting I realised that maybe the biggest enemy here is myself. All the pressure I put on myself to be and do it all. To wonder if I’m doing a good job, to wonder if they are getting everything they need and more. But maybe all they need is just me to sit down with them and laugh about the door stopper.
I think all of us must come to terms with our own unique parenting journey and learn to let go of what we thought it’d be. For some this might be easier while others may continue to cling to an ideal. I’ve personally had to grieve many aspects of what I thought my own journey of motherhood would be so I could accept what it is. This has been strangely liberating because there is no ideal to live up to anymore, it’s being created as we speak. One thing I know for sure is that perfection does not exist. Not even for the perfectly curated Instagram moms and mega successful boss babe LinkedIn moms. I wish we had more authenticity in social media, but the platforms aren’t really designed for that. It’s great to see other people’s wins and happy moments, I just wonder how much the constant highlight real creates a false image of reality. I wonder how scrolling unconsciously creates an urge to ‘keep up with Joneses’. I hope for more honest conversations around motherhood, the kind I have with friends, the kind of conversations that never make it to social media.
My journey through motherhood is unique, with its own unique setbacks and privileges. While I may draw inspiration from others, what matters most is that I do my job in keeping my kids safe and loved. If I can throw in a little something extra every day, then I’d say that’s a job well done. These every day moments create a whole rainbow of memories for my children. I hope they learn that their mother always tried her best. Sometimes she got mad, sometimes she got it wrong, and sometimes she needed time alone to do other things that made her, her. Sometimes she nailed it, too. While this is my children’s life, it’s also mine. It’s that whole “put your oxygen mask on first” metaphor which is a lot easier said than done.
Here’s to figuring it one day at a time. Here’s to spending probably the rest of my life trying to figure out on earth I will balance it all.
Art Therapy with Kimberly 
Thank you for your honesty.
I think that the first few years of motherhood are particularly intense because babies and toddlers need us to do so much for them. But as they approach school age and they start to become more independent, it should get easier. I look forward to adventures with my three little people once they are big enough to go hiking, go to the movies, go for a run together, camping, swimming at the beach. But then I’ll miss these baby snuggles, the smell of baby’s head, these tiny little toes and the gorgeous mutterings of a little person trying to work out how to form language. Every season has its storms and its beauty.
I think what has surprised me about motherhood is how washed out I am. I don’t have time to get myself to the beautician for an eyelash tint and that has become a symbol for how I feel. Like my face is fading into the background while my kids wear hyper colour.
Most of my energy is spent on my kids, with very little left for myself. I try to get out once a week for a swim on my own. That’s how I recharge. It’s good for my mental and physical health, just a moment for myself to reenergize. If I do this one thing, I can get by.
That is the most perfect metaphor, I feel so similar too.