"An open letter to all the moms who find it hard to breathe." I've been victim to that crippling feeling of not being enough for so long. All while trying to smile through my days, with my eyes in a fog, so my kids and my spouse can pass my indifferent behavior off as normal. So that no one will suspect I cry in the shower late at night with the water up and some music playing to drown out the noise. This is hard. Every day seems hard. And yet I do not know how to put into words what the problem actually is. Maybe it is nothing. Maybe its everything. From not fitting into my clothes right, to having no place to go. No adults to talk to daily while I am sprawled across the floor picking up blocks and baby dinosaurs while my kids run around screaming. Counting backwards in my head and just taking deep breaths, my head feeling light and dizzy. My heart pounding in my chest, an irregular and angry beat of drums that bring on a stirring solo in my gut, my veins writhing with heat and adrenaline. "I can't do this."
And mommy just needs 5 minutes alone. No. Make it a day. A week. A week of silence. My favorite books, being read on a hammock. A delicious breeze cooling off my bathing suit body, after laying out in the sun on my balcony. Staying in a bungalow with wide open windows and clear aqua water beneath the floor. Vacation. Without anyone or anything. No obligations. No calls. In fact. No reception. No one needing a gosh darn thing. Peace. Then two tiny hands pop under the door. "Mommy... I need to do poop". And just like that, your fantasy is over and you are opening up the door, letting light flash into the dark bathroom where you sat taking your break. Where I sometimes sit to just get away a little bit. To the mama who does everything. From crisp & clean laundry, folded perfectly into the drawers with lavender scented satchels tucked neat into the corner. To hot, baked meals with crock pot aromas filling your beautiful home all detailed with DIY, Pinterest worthy decor that YOU made with your loving hands for your family to gaze at and feel loved. To the mama who packs every lunch, serves every dinner to tired spouses and noisy children only to do all the cleanup, showers, teeth brushing, floor cleaning, bed time stories, kisses, glasses of water and tuck right ins'. To the mama who spends the rest of the night cleaning up each room, re-stacking the blocks, crawling across the living room carpet and feeling underneath furniture for crumbs and Sippy cups. To the mama cradling her baby who breastfeeds at 11PM after the others are in bed and that cleaning is all done. And you cry along with baby as you feeling like nodding off. And your only entertainment is scrolling through the news feed til midnight and playing a game of farming crops on your phone. Breathe. The 5,000 toys around the floor can wait. The crumbs on the kitchen counter and the pile of dishes in the sink can wait. After the priorities are done, and whatever gets the house silent is done, then just STOP. STOP. BREATHE. And give yourself some love. Just a few minutes a night if that is what is necessary. Tell yourself you are loved. You are worthy. You are strong. You are resilient. Tell yourself you are so powerful. And so needed. Give yourself these few minutes to be needy and to serve yourself.
Published by Jean Soto JS Jaded Savior blog: jadedsaviorblog@gmail.com
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AuthorJean Soto, mother of 3 and wife, is a writer + artist in the Hudson Valley, NY community. Archives
December 2019
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