Dear Mom, I’m Sorry, I Had No Idea
Now that I have two little handfuls of my own who push me past my breaking point on a regular basis, I more than understand.
I don’t recall my mother losing her temper much when I was growing up. I do remember her looking skyward and sighing, “When you’re a mother, you’ll understand.”
Now that I have two little handfuls of my own who push me past my breaking point on a regular basis, I more than understand. And, I am humbled because truly, I had no idea.
I had no idea what tired was. I thought I understood about sleep deprivation because I’d pulled a few all-nighters in college. (Feel free to LOL at that one.) I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to wake up all night every night for months — years even — and never catch up.
I had no idea how much it hurts to love that hard. Whether I’m putting my hand on my daughter’s chest to make sure she’s still breathing or sleeping with the phone under my pillow while she’s at a sleepover, I never stop worrying, and I know I never will.
I had no idea how challenging it is to get dinner on the table every night when nobody ever likes what I make and half of it winds up in the trash.
I had no idea how hard I’d work for so little recognition. Even though I literally do everything for my kids, from wiping their butts to teaching them English, I rarely hear a word of thanks. Sometimes I whisper to myself, “Thank you, Mommy” and pretend they said it.
I had no idea how scary it would be the first time a kid gets a bloody lip or a broken arm and how much I would wish, at those moments, that my mom was there to mother me.
I had no idea that having two kids is 17 times harder than one kid. I had no idea that juggling their schedules means always waking someone from a nap or eating sloppily in the car or doing homework in Sharpie outside the ballet class because Mom forgot a pencil.
I had no idea how brutal it is when your kids fight each other. Normally I’d be ready to go mama-bear on anyone who laid a hand on my child, so it’s very confusing and upsetting when the aggressor is…also my child.
I had no idea that moms aren’t allowed to get sick. How we have to mother through the flu and sinus infections and allergy attacks and migraines and backaches and bubonic plagues because our jobs come with no vacations or sick days.
I had no idea what kind of epic mess children are capable of creating. My entire search history is things like “how to get Sharpie off wood furniture” and “how to get glitter out of grout” and “how to remove slime from hair.” We literally can’t have nice things, and now I understand why mom couldn’t either.
I had no idea how little time I’d have for myself. That it would feel like a spa day if I was able to both floss AND moisturize. That I would empty the dishwasher more often than I put on lip gloss. And that it would take me a year to read a book because I’d keep falling asleep on the first chapter.
I had no idea how annoying it is when children scream for you from downstairs when they know you’re in the shower. Okay, I lied. My own mother did point out how annoying that was, and I did it anyway for 18 years.
I had no idea that everything from now on would be my fault. Mom forgot to pack the floaties. Mom didn’t remember which kid hates raisins. Mom sent her little ones to school with no rain slickers and then caused it to rain because she is an all-powerful, yet highly fallible, sorcerer.
I had no idea how weird it would be to stop being my own person and instead be someone else’s mother. How my identity is changed forever and I couldn’t go back even if I wanted to.
I truly had no idea.
They say Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, only backward and in high heels. Well, my mom did everything I did, only solo and in the snow.
It had to be so hard. I knew I was lucky to have a stay-at-home mom who was there when I got off the school bus, but I never gave any thought to how she made it through the day. Caffeine was involved, but so was love, so much love. She put us first, always and forever, and I should call her more.
I had no idea how weird, stressful, scary, maddening, all-consuming, absurd, and beautiful it is to be a mother.
And I’m sorry it took me decades to know this, Mom.
