“Maybe you’d find more joy if you returned to work?” I tucked a stray hair back into my messy ponytail as a tear slipped down my face. His words pierced my heart, and my husband, who had been by my side for seven years, continued gently, “It just seems like you’re not… happy.” He was on shaky ground, trying to address a concern I hadn’t explicitly voiced. I was overwhelmed by my new role as a mother of two, struggling under the weight of daily responsibilities. My days were consumed by two primary tasks: nursing a baby and potty training a toddler. One was perpetually hungry, while the other faced constipation – a relentless cycle. Imagine, at 9 a.m., 11 a.m., and 3:38 p.m., there I was in the bathroom, coaxing one child to use the potty while the other latched on. Add to that a mountain of laundry and dishes, along with the sound of two children wailing, and I felt as though I was suffocating in my own life.
Every evening, my husband returned to the same scene: our two-and-a-half-year-old sprawled on the floor with a stomach ache, our four-month-old crying, and me teetering on the brink of a breakdown. Our routine had become predictable—my husband would walk through the door at 6:02 p.m., and I would immediately transfer two squirming kids into his arms, along with a barrage of complaints, before retreating to the bathroom for a brief moment of solitude.
Night after night, my husband assumed parenting duties while I unloaded the burdens of my exhausting day. I needed him to understand how challenging this was, how drained I felt, and how hopeless I became by 5 p.m. I found myself sharing tales of spit-up incidents, failed naptimes, grocery store tantrums, and crushed Cheerios on the kitchen floor.
I transformed into a constant complainer, with my children at the center of my daily grievances. I became someone I didn’t even recognize—a victim, someone who whined more than laughed. I wanted to change, but I couldn’t stop the complaints from pouring out like a stream of consciousness.
It was no surprise when my husband, concerned about my happiness, wondered if I would be better off returning to full-time work. I’d be untruthful if I said I hadn’t occasionally contemplated that myself. His inquiry, however, unveiled a truth: the issue in our home wasn’t the kids; it was my attitude. It wasn’t them—it was me. My daily narrative had skewed dramatically toward negativity.
There was a time, seemingly in a different life, when both my husband and I worked full-time outside the home. We shared similar experiences: the stress of deadlines, the challenges of commuting, and the frustrations of conference calls. We both earned salaries and received promotions for our efforts. Our evenings were spent swapping stories over leisurely meals at the kitchen table.
Presently, my husband continues his full-time job while I’ve transitioned to part-time work from home, caring for our two young children. Since becoming a work-at-home mom, I found myself fixated on ensuring my husband truly understood the demands of daily child-rearing. I felt compelled to convey the physical and emotional toll of motherhood, as if he needed to comprehend it fully to appreciate it.
One of my earliest memories of leaving my husband alone with both kids was eye-opening. Upon returning home, I encountered a scene of chaos: toys scattered everywhere, spilled yogurt on the floor, and an Elmo doll hanging from the ceiling fan. My husband’s expression said it all, but he added nine simple words that resonated with me: “I don’t know how you do this every day.” At that moment, it felt like angels were singing. Sunlight poured through the windows as I kissed him, exclaiming, “That’s the best thing you could say to me.”
I craved that recognition—that affirmation that caring for two small children was a challenge for both of us. “I don’t know how you do this every day” became a phrase I wanted to hear repeatedly, a validation of my struggles.
Every night, however, my husband’s innocent question about my happiness struck a chord. Was I truly unhappy? While there were certainly difficult moments, overall, my life felt like a dream come true. I often share my gratitude with others, not in a disingenuous way, but expressing how fortunate I am to watch my kids grow while pursuing my own interests. Yes, balancing everything is tough, and some days are downright chaotic, but when I reflect on it all, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.
In my quest for validation and appreciation, I realized I had been portraying a distorted view of our daily lives. My husband’s understanding of our home life was shaped solely by the complaints I shared each day. I was quick to recount the challenges but neglected to mention the joyful moments.
For every tantrum at the post office, there’s a dance party in the living room. For every stressful car ride, there are fits of laughter on the changing table. What if I altered my daily narrative to be more positive? How would that impact our evenings, my marriage, my relationship with my children, and my overall perspective on motherhood?
I’m three years into this parenting journey, and I recognize there are areas I need to improve. The daily report card? That’s certainly one of them. So, I’m committing to a mid-year resolution—trading my complaints for highlights. Each day, I aim to identify three positive aspects to share, like our boys playing peek-a-boo behind the curtains or their adorable bath-time mohawks. I want to focus on the moments that make us smile and refrain from dwelling on those that bring tears.
On particularly challenging days, I’ll reserve my complaints for when they’re truly warranted (like a car seat incident involving explosive diarrhea). Instead of unloading a torrent of grievances when my husband arrives home, I’ll use a simple phrase when things have been tough: “Want to pick up Chipotle for dinner?” He’ll understand that without needing an explanation. At 6:02 p.m., he’ll walk in with burrito bowls, look at the chaos around him, and smile, saying, “I don’t know how you do this every day.”
For additional insights on similar topics related to home insemination, you may want to explore this blog post.
As a summary, parenting is a complex journey filled with both challenges and joys. By shifting our focus from complaints to positive experiences, we can enhance our relationships and our own well-being. Embracing the full spectrum of parenting can lead to a more fulfilling life.