Dear Love,
I adore you. Truly, with every fiber of my being. But let’s be real — I’m exhausted. I’m so worn out that my exhaustion has exhaustion. Can you grasp that? It’s almost pointless to even quantify my fatigue because it requires too much energy just to string together coherent thoughts. I’m wiped out. Drained. Overwhelmed. Tired.
You look at me as if I’ve just emerged from a parallel universe. I’m a working mom, and it’s a unique journey. I grapple with the heavy guilt of not being home every single day with our little ones, like those “perfect” moms who seem to have it all.
I completely acknowledge that stay-at-home moms work incredibly hard — their dedication is real. But I’m not cut out for that lifestyle. For me, heading to my job feels like a mini-break, even though I’m also putting in serious effort there. My paycheck is vital for our family, but I genuinely enjoy my career. I want our kids to see the value in hard work. That’s my mantra, anyway. Yet, the guilt of not being there for them lingers like a shadow that never dissipates.
Let me clarify: I don’t think you’re a bad husband or father. Far from it — you’re in the top tier of amazing partners. You’re my knight in shining armor, my charming prince. While you can’t “fix” my exhaustion, you can definitely lighten my load in practical ways.
When you see me coming home from work, juggling a mountain of documents, school bags, kids’ artwork, or groceries, please lend a hand. And do me a favor — can you keep track of your own keys and wallet? Every little bit helps!
Another thing weighing on me is loneliness. Being a working mom often feels isolating. Most of my friends are caught up in their own busy lives, so our catch-up time has dwindled to almost nothing. The days of relaxing pedicure dates and happy hours have vanished. On the rare occasions when we manage to sip wine and wear our PJs together, it feels like a comforting escape.
Understand that loneliness is my adversary. I crave community, so please encourage my friendships. Push me out the door so I can reconnect with the outside world.
But here’s the deal: I need you to step up while I’m out. I know you’d appreciate a list of tasks, but honestly, I’m often too drained to compile one. I’ll do my best, though!
Can you handle dinner for our little whirlwinds? Get them bathed, check their homework, and lay out clothes for school the next day. (Just please, no skirts on P.E. days!) Create that paper-mâché Eiffel Tower (seriously, who invented glitter?). Make sure they brush their teeth and settle down for storytime. And for the love of all that’s good, keep to the schedule so they can sleep well! Otherwise, we’ll be paying the price with chaos and meltdowns the next day. At that point, a trip to a cozy asylum sounds like a vacation.
After that, tackle the kitchen, feed the pets, pack those lunches, and switch out the laundry before it smells like an old gym sock. If it’s already too late, just run another rinse cycle. (Oh, how I loathe that buzzer!)
I know I have control issues, and I’m working on them. I’ll do my best not to nitpick everything you did while I was out enjoying some me-time. So what if the kids dined on a delightful mix of mac and cheese, baked potatoes, and leftover spaghetti? Carbs for the win! I appreciate your efforts, my sweet darling.
In closing, I feel overwhelmed and like I’m falling short in every aspect of my life. I’m giving each part only about 60% of my best, which is essentially a D. Imagine how ragged I’d look if I were just coasting through life with that kind of score!
That’s all I can express for now, and I know it’s a bit of a downer. But I promise to attack tomorrow with renewed vigor and strive for an A. I might not hit the mark (again), but could you please remind me that I’m doing okay? Your encouragement in my parenting, my job, and my contributions to our family means the world to me.
I look to you for support. Help me unwind physically. I’m not talking about anything too steamy (well, maybe if the mood strikes!). Just run a bubble bath once in a while, light a candle, and let me enjoy a few moments of peace. (And hey, it’s a fair trade for your daily “throne room” visits that you’ve transformed into your personal escape, right?) So dim the lights, put on some Boyz II Men, and show me a little romance! But no hard feelings if I drift off before we even get to “I’ll Make Love to You.”
I wish I could linger and discuss this more, but responsibilities await. There’s a runny nose to wipe, emails to check, math homework to tackle, and countless tasks before I can finally rest.
Love,
Your Working Wife