What if being a mom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?
I dreamed of sweet little babies sleeping and loving me and growing into adorable people. Where they succeeded and failed and I parented perfectly along the way.
And loved it.
I don’t love it. Not all the time and not much at all sometimes. Don’t get me wrong - I love my kids to the moon and back but there are times where I see our friends with less children or no children and I am wistful and honestly, jealous. They can go out and have a life and dates. They can take vacations and get one hotel room. A sedan will hold everyone. They don’t have to split themselves in so many pieces to serve the family.
I choose this life - always said I wanted four children. Always wanted to marry my high school band camp sweetheart. And being the overachiever I am, I did both of those things. The kid thing - I was one of four. I believe that’s where my desire for four children came from. However, I was an ‘oops‘ - I was born 8 years after my closest sibling. My oldest sister and brother graduated high school when I was 4 and 6 respectively.
Essentially I was an only child after age 10. I got married in college at age 20. Graduated. Got a job. Built a house. Had my first baby at 24.
Evil Joy @ Evil Joy Speaks