Since about 11 months ago my life is a huge mess. Really. Dinner time is messy, bed time is never-ending and I don’t think my skin has ever been as dry, or the circles under my eyes as deep and dark.
I am loving all of it. I am a mom now.
That’s what I wish I wanted to say, but it is not the truth. I don’t mind cleaning up after meals, and I love rocking my son to sleep, but I don’t like not having control over my life anymore; I don’t like feeling like I am rushing through my days and knowing that I am not doing well enough in any area of my life. Well, I think I am doing the best I can as a mom; everything else, I know I’ve done better in the past.
Being a working mom is hard. Being a mom, period, is hard. Working full time I feel a constant pull. When I am home with my son, my heart races every time my phone rings. When I am at work I think of my baby all the time, even though I enjoy my job. When I finally arrive home I feel terrible that I spent all those hours away from him and that my lovely babysitter got to be with him while he was happy and awake.
Supposedly I have it all now. My healthy child, a job I like and the wonderful husband. Why do I feel so stressed out? Some people told me it would be hard, society says it can be done, should be done, MUST BE DONE. But I am still debating if being a working mom is worth it or not.
So welcome to my very imperfect life. From the outside it may seem like I have it all under control, but in reality I am trying to figure it all out, and being honest about it.