I used to be a person. Now, I’m a scheduler, a diaper changer, a child feeder.
I’m playing a game on Alexa with my son. She asks for player two’s first name. I hesitate for a second and sigh. “Mommy,” I respond. I have no name these days. I am simply “Mommy”.
Some days, I’m not even sure I’m a person any more. I’m a scheduler, a diaper changer, a child feeder, a dish doer, a laundry washer (but rarely folder). I am a pet feeder, a floor cleaner, a sippy cup fetcher. I am, occasionally, a wife.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, I love my children, and I chose this life. I would chose it again and again. But, I used to be a person. A person with friends, with goals bigger than getting to nap-time, with a job where I made bigger decisions than whether to make meatballs or chicken nuggets for lunch.
This is the life I chose, but I didn’t know how lonely it would be. I didn’t know how draining it would be for my introverted soul to entertain my kids all day. I didn’t know that my husband would grow to resent me as my choices changed the trajectory of his career. I didn’t know that all my friends were work friends and I’d never hear from them again.
I also didn’t know how satisfying it would be to watch my son’s artwork progress, to see my daughter stand for the first time, walk for the first time, and talk for the first time. I didn’t know how much I would enjoy teaching my son to crack an egg or pour juice. I didn’t know how days filled with baby hugs and snuggles could be so good for my soul. I didn’t know how satisfying it would be the first time I got to tell my mom (who had watched my son for 2.5 years) what my son meant when he said something unintelligible. Previously she would have to tell me. I didn’t know that, on our worst days, I would never even think about going back to work.
There were a lot of things I didn’t know. But, I have always known that this job was what I was born to do.