I’ll preface this post by saying that I just sat down from putting two very needy and slightly grumpy boys to bed, so my emotions are likely getting the best of me here.
BUT, I’d been trying to think of something to sit and write and share with you all, so here’s what I’ve got.
I don’t know what it is, but lately, I have been putting so much more self-imposed pressure on myself about motherhood, and it’s really driving me batty. Almost every night, as I’m attempting to wind down from whatever shenanigans that particular day brought, I find myself (as I’m sure many of you do) mindlessly scrolling through Facebook or Instagram.
And there is picture after picture of families having a blast, parents bringing their kiddos to fabulous and fun outings, perfectly sleeping babies…you name it.
I mean, I really feel silly even typing this because I know how this goes.
I know social media is the highlight reel of everyone’s life.
I KNOW that what we all see (and share, for that matter) is not always the full picture.
But here I am, STILL feeling like I must be doing something wrong…
Or maybe I just have very challenging boys…
Or maybe I still just have no idea how to parent these precious little boys of mine?!
The other day, I was actually asked by someone if Jay and I are ever going to try for a third child.
I almost choked on my water because, while the thought of another tiny human that WE created could be walking on this earth is something that will forever excite me, the reality of it is…I really just don’t think we could do it. Our sanity…our marriage…our finances. I can’t even fathom how that would look?!
I see so many families of three (or more) children easily (<– again, I get it…all relative and just what we’re seeing) navigating life and (seemingly) doing it well. And then there are other families happily getting ready to welcome a third (or fourth) little one.
And I’m over here just trying to throw together anything I can find in my fridge to feed them for dinner, with one crying and attached to my leg, while the other one has jumped off the back of the couch for the umpteenth time while simultaneously yelling back at me after me asking him not to like…HOW?
How the heck do they (or you!) do it and make it look so easy? Or better yet, how do they stay sane? What are their secrets? Are their kids just super chill and well-behaved? Are these parents just way more relaxed than me? Are my kids just really spirited and overly attached to their mom in a serious way, to the point where I feel like I can’t be stretched any thinner?
As you can see, the wheels have been spinnin’ up there.
All of this to say, I know this post is a bit random. And it may even come across as whiny and obnoxious to some (how dare I be ungrateful for all that I have?!). And trust me…I am far from ungrateful, and I think you all know that.
But I had some feelings I wanted to write, so I wrote ’em. And I realize I may (probably) look back on this post next week and be like, “Sheeesh, Courtney…what were you thinking?” Heck, if both boys actually sit and eat dinner nicely tonight without any yelling from anyone, I may be ready to throw these momentary feelings of self-doubt right out the window.
But these are the raw moments that I know I like to hear about.
The moments that aren’t perfect. The ones that remind me that we all stumble, and struggle, and question our abilities. We all have days that make us question if we’re doing anything right, or wonder what we can be doing to be better.
Parenthood is tough ‘ish. And even though I’ve been feeling like I’m the only one struggling lately while everyone else is rockin’ it, I know that’s ridiculously far from the truth.