My mind is clouded 24/7. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing. I just know that in-between of pumping myself with Aroma Joe’s Rushes and Oliver’s nap time, I must try and keep this human alive, somewhat happy and manage to find my own life. Yes, I know. I proudly wear the #momlife sweater and enjoy every minute I can of it, but sometimes I want to know where I fit in?
Who? ME. This flesh of a person that could take her sweet ass time to do her hair and make up, go to the gym on a regular and manage to get laundry done without forgetting to swap it over for the third time. I find myself muttering “what the fuck” between massive diaper blow outs and dirty dishes. And what the fuck is right. I look in the mirror and wonder who I am every day. I get up extra early to get in some extra hair and make up time before my little one wakes, but let’s get real, I probably hit snooze about 5 times before I actually get up and decide to be human again.
It feels like many moons ago I could wake up on a sunny day and take in the day. Get ready, grab my purse and just go. My life is now run by a tiny human who feels the need to throw his pasta all over my freshly cleaned floors.
Here comes the mommy guilt. I still want to go out and do stuff that doesn’t include this human. I know, CRAZY right?! God forbid, I actually leave my house without my child. It’s the first thing I hear from everyone the minute I set into an adult setting.
“Where’s Ollie?” “Where’s the baby?” “Who has him?”
I clearly left him at home with the oven on and the door the cellar door open with some snacks on the floor. He’ll be fine, right? Insert eye roll. I can do things without him. As much as I do feel guilty leaving him, to do a quick gym session or a get a fill on my nails, I deserve it. I don’t need your mommy shame.
I think we all deserve to get out of the dark clouds of never ending laundry, the never ending picking up of toys and constant sharing of my food. You’re allowed to be you. Not just mom.