There is no denying that motherhood is as amazing and enjoyable as it is difficult, stressful and monotonous, and while I would not trade it for anything in the entire world I do appreciate some of the honesty of this recent feature that ran this week in New York Magazine titled “I Love My Children. I Hate My Life”. It seems to be the modern problem — and especially for those women who had children later in life after a long stretch on independence. I can only speak for myself here but all too often I find myself in a never ending inner dialogue of “am I getting this right?”, “am I a failure because I feel stressed out about meal planning” and “am I a bad mom for taking a break from time to time?” Not to mention feeling discombobulated in general about my role OUTSIDE of being a mother.
The bar for motherhood is so high these days and I think the pressure has stripped a lot of the pure joy out of it, and although I try not to succumb to it too much it’s difficult to ignore. Am I a bad mom because I don’t LOVE sitting on the floor doing art projects for hours or reading the same book again and again every single night? Is a piece of me missing because I am not smiling ear-to-ear when I am begging my kids to go to bed or scrambling to get them off to school in the morning? Sometimes I would just love to play with my girls and not be thinking about what I am going to make for dinner. Anyway – for what it is worth, I thought it was an interesting article, if somewhat depressing, but worth a read.