Today, I found myself wanting to “tap out” of motherhood for a while. Admitting this feels uncomfortable, but it’s the truth. I reached a point where I thought, “I can’t do this anymore. I’m not cut out for this. I’m finished.” Exhaustion had me feeling overwhelmed and defeated. I’m fed up with illness, tired of hospital visits, and completely drained from the stress of recent weeks.
But it goes beyond that. I’m weary of repeating myself until I’m hoarse, only to realize that no one is listening. I’m done stepping over the same jacket, toy, or shoe that keeps getting shifted around instead of picked up, despite my countless reminders. And let’s not even get started on the never-ending dishes and laundry. Just thinking about it makes me feel like a broken record. I’m over the chaos of cleaning up messes only for them to reappear moments later. I’m tired of putting clothes away, only for them to be scattered all over again as if I never did. It’s as if I’m running on a hamster wheel that’s about to break.
Today, I reached my limit as my body felt increasingly run-down. I wished I could call my mother for support, to come over and help, to make everything better. Oh, how I longed for that! If only I had the magic solution to fix everything and keep my family safe in a bubble. But that remedy is nowhere to be found. I even wished I could clone myself, just so I wouldn’t feel so depleted, so utterly empty.
Today, I raised my voice when I finally found the energy to do so. I lost my patience and probably earned the title of Worst Mother of the Year. I let negativity, exhaustion, and frustration take over. Yet, in the evening, as I held my little one in my arms, she sensed everything. She lived through my tough day with me, every painful moment. And then, with one simple sentence, she reminded me how wrong I was to feel defeated. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with sincerity, and gently stroked my cheek.
“I make you happy, Mama,” she declared.
She didn’t ask; she stated it with complete certainty. Those five little words were a powerful reminder that maybe I can keep going after all. It turns out, sometimes all we need is a two-year-old to spark our resilience. When we think we’ve hit our limit, something or someone often reignites our spirit when we least expect it. That’s the essence of parenting, my friends. That’s what helps us rise for another day.
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In summary, motherhood can be incredibly challenging, and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. But sometimes, a small reminder from our children can reignite our strength and determination to keep pushing forward.