Maybe it’s the slightly frantic look on my face when I venture out with my four little ones. Or perhaps it’s the way my shoulders sag in sheer exhaustion, resembling a ragged version of Captain Caveman. Whatever the reason, people often stop me and, with a kind tone, remark, “Wow, you really have your hands full, don’t you?”
Often, my hands are, in fact, overflowing with snacks, drinks, random toys, discarded shoes, and a collection of hair ties that somehow seem to multiply. It’s as if everything must be handed to me rather than tossed into the nearby trash can designed for just that purpose.
I find myself unsure how to respond. Is it a question? Is it meant as a compliment or a light-hearted jab? It evokes that classic American sentiment about multitasking, as if my ability to manage chaos is somehow commendable due to the fact that I’ve clearly had my share of unprotected moments.
Truth be told, I’m not particularly great at multitasking. I struggle with this whole parenting gig, and that’s why I don’t often take all four kids out in public. By evening, after a long day of work and managing half-fed children, I often end up collapsed on the floor, my shirt bearing the unfortunate marks of whatever mess has come my way.
So yes, I do have my hands full—but isn’t that the case for everyone? Parenting is tough, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise. I’ve grown weary of apologizing for admitting how difficult it can be. While I acknowledge that there are far worse challenges in life, that doesn’t diminish the fact that the everyday journey of parenting is hard.
I’m not in a competition for hardship. Just because I say that parenting is tough doesn’t negate the existence of other struggles. This is my reality: navigating life with four children while juggling work, relationships, and self-care. And guess what? I can’t do it all perfectly.
I genuinely wish I could be exceptional at everything—believe me, it pains me to admit that I can’t. As a firstborn Type-A perfectionist raised by a similar individual, I yearn to have everything in order, polished, and neatly arranged. But I can’t.
That’s the truth of being a working mom or, perhaps, a parent in general. It involves carving out space for what truly matters amid the chaos. Some days, it’s a mix of crawling and rushing, and often I’m just trying to keep my head above water. Like attempting to catch up on emails while simultaneously using the restroom and putting on makeup—only to drop my phone in the toilet.
I promise my husband we’ll have some time together after the kids are asleep, only to wake the next day still in my work clothes, my face marked by the sofa’s imprint. I find myself saying no to events I wish I could attend, wondering if everyone else is out enjoying life without me. The longing for those friendships can be so intense that I’m tempted to plan a spontaneous trip for my family, even if it’s financially out of reach.
But I can’t. Not right now. “Not yet” has become the anthem of my life—time with my husband? Not yet. Regular girls’ nights? Not yet. Completing the book I’ve been writing for ages? Not yet. Getting back to my pre-baby shape? Not yet. A clean house? Not yet.
You get the picture.
Yet, amidst the madness, there’s so much miraculous wonder in this life. Sometimes, we’re too busy or overwhelmed to appreciate it. Life is fleeting, and we often want to slow it down to savor the beauty amidst the chaos. If given the chance to relive it all, I have no doubt we’d choose these messy, wonderful kids over and over again, even when they’re sticky and unkempt.
We would grab them up in our arms, racing home like a whirlwind, while onlookers remark, “Wow, you really have your hands full, don’t you?” And we would smile, because we know that while it’s challenging, we can love this life fiercely and acknowledge the struggles together.
And if the Ghost of Motherhood Future ever appears, tempting us to skip ahead to a quieter time, I know we’d all respond with a resolute “Not yet.”
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Summary:
Parenting is undeniably challenging, and while it may seem like a full plate, it’s a shared experience among many. Acknowledging the struggles doesn’t diminish the beauty of the journey. We often balance responsibilities, longing for moments of connection while managing the chaos of family life. Ultimately, we embrace both the hardships and joys, knowing that we’d choose this life all over again.