This Is My Place

Sunday, January 15, 2017



It's Sunday morning, around 9 a.m. and already I feel like I've accomplished a lot since rising before the sun came up. The kitchen is clean. The living room is clean. Baby is down for his nap. The boys are on a Home Depot trip. I should be napping myself, probably. These midnight and 3 a.m. wakeups are taking the life out of me.

Yesterday was a fun day. A fun, girly adulting day. I attended a brunch hosted at a friend's house, which basically was an all day event as I didn't return home till 6 p.m. It was wonderful, it was refreshing, I met some new, interesting people, and I wore clothes. Like, real clothes. Pants with a button. And makeup. And jewelry. I'd been freed from the confines of my home for 6 whole hours without ever worrying if the baby was going to swallow something he'd discovered on his new crawling conquest, or trying to keep up with my three-year-old playing superheroes and "chase".

It's funny really, because I did have such a great time, but on the way back (an hour drive from the city back to the 'burbs) I kept thinking how good it was to be going home. I've had these feelings lately, dying to leave, to get a breath of fresh air, to be by myself for a bit or to see friends, but then I reach this limit where I feel like I'm recharged enough and need to get back to where I'm needed. Not that G can't handle anything while I'm gone, but it's just that feeling. "They need me. I need to go home."

And with all the shitty things happening in the world as of late, I worry being far from my family. And by "far" I mean literally leaving for a few hours to run errands. I never really had this type of anxiety before, or maybe I did and it just grew with the added responsibility of having a family to "protect", but I feel safe at home. As much as I'm clawing at the walls to escape my house by the middle of the week, they are my safety net. I find it difficult to "take my time" while I'm away sans-kids, because my mind is always here. I like it here. As crazy and loud and stressful as it can be. This is my place. 

It's important to get out, take a vacation, get some "me" time, some husband-and-wife time--I'm all about that. Trust me. I learned from the very beginning that those times to reboot are crucial to be the best mama I can be. I need to be myself. I need to engage in conversation that isn't always about praising someone, going potty, or constantly asking, "Are you hungry?" all day. I plan things on the weekends so I have something to look forward to. Greg and I have mini getaways to remind ourselves that before there were four of us, it was just the two of us. Every mother needs that. Every parent needs that. It's just that once I get my foot out of the door, I have instant FOMO combined with worry (something could happen to me...or them) and I just want to be back with my crew.

And such is motherhood, am I right? The constant back and forth. And that's okay. This is where I'm meant to be. This is what I was meant to do. Love on these babies, teach them to grow into kind, loving, wonderful human beings. Be here. Be present. And be okay with the fact that sometimes I just need a break, and when I do... everything will be just fine.

And so, as I ramble on.. I will end with this:

"Motherhood brings as much joy as ever, but it still brings boredom, exhaustion, and sorrow too. Nothing else ever will make you as happy or as sad, as proud or as tired, for nothing is quite as hard as helping a person develop his own individuality especially while you struggle to keep your own."      -Marguerite Kelly and Elia Parsons