The Love & Hate of Motherhood

Last Sunday, I hit the ceiling of my patience. Between a lack of sleep and feeling overall run down, I couldn’t deal with the screaming-jumping-running-around of it all. I locked myself in my office for a few hours to snack and decompress. And it got me thinking. There is so much to love about being a mom. There is also so much to hate about it. And it really is ok to hate some of it. Motherhood asks that we give a lot more than we get most days. Sometimes it’s a little bit too much. The dichotomy of motherhood is the strangest mix of joy and sorrow, love and frustration there is.

Here’s my love/hate of motherhood list.

Love: All the cuddles, squeezes, and kisses. There are moments in the day where a surprise squeeze from my boys is exactly what the doctor ordered and it makes everything feel better.

Hate: All the cuddles, squeezes, and kisses. Then there are days when they are hanging off me like a necklace. Clinging to me like the barnacle on the bottom of a boat. It all feels like too much and I just don’t want to be touched anymore. To the point where, when A comes home from work, I don’t have enough affection left to show him love.

Love: Watching them learn new things and explore the world around them. One of the amazing things about having kids is learning about the world through their eyes. Their enthusiasm and pride after they accomplish something new. Like, when J says, “It worked!” every time he owes in the potty. EVERY. TIME. Or whenever C figures out how to do something — like opening the child lock we put on the fridge because he kept leaving the door open — and he says, “I did it!” Even when it’s something I don’t want him to do, I love the enthusiasm. It’s infectious.

Hate: How hard it is to keep them teach them about the world and protect them from it at the same time. In a world of police brutality and ALICE drills for pre-schoolers, what are parents supposed to teach their kids about trust? One day you can have lunch and laugh with a friend, the next day you’re running from them in an attempt to save your own life…as a child. How do we teach them how to trust the police when it feels like every other day there’s another story about officer-involved violence against civilians?

Love: The extra purpose in life that having children gives you. I’m not the kind of person who thinks having children makes me superior to anyone who doesn’t. But raising kids is an important job, probably the most important job, we can have. We’re literally molding the future. When every thing else goes away. When you get laid off or divorced or lose people, your little ones are always there. So even when we feel like we have no purpose, they are our purpose.

Hate: Motherhood takes away so much of our autonomy, and sometimes it all feels like too much. Taking care of yourself can sometimes feel like a daunting task. Of course, caring for another person will feel overwhelming at times. Knowing that they are solely depending on you to keep them alive and mold them into good people…sometimes it’s an utter mindfuck. The person you were before you have kids and who you are after are two very different people. In some ways that’s a good thing. In others, we have to give up some of the things that make us feel the most like ourselves.

Motherhood asks a lot of us, and sometimes it feels like it takes without giving. Other times it asks nothing and gives so very much. See, perfect dichotomy.

Pet Mom vs. Human Mom: There is a Difference

A few months into dating, my husband and I adopted a cat — well, he adopted the cat; I helped him pick her out. Now several years on, we have two cats and a toddler. I know people like to say that pets are a primer for parenthood, but being a pet mom (be it a cat or dog) has nothing on raising an actual human being. And anyone who thinks it’s the same, well, you just wait and see…

Now that our son is completely independently mobile, we spend a lot of time chasing him around the house or turning our backs for one second only to turn back and find him sitting on the dining table eating a nectarine (at least he’s going for the healthy stuff. *shrugs*) As he partakes in more and more dangerous activities, I start to realize that the cats do this sh*t all the time and it’s nowhere near as stressful.

I’ve watched and laughed countless times as our female cat tries to jump from one surface to another. She is a beautiful orange tabby, but God did not gift her with grace…or long enough legs. When we lock the baby gate, her younger cat brother leaps over it like it’s nothing while she sits and stares longingly, waiting to be let in or out of the living room.

We recently bought a learning ladder for our toddler to stand on and watch/vaguely help while I cook. The other morning I watched as our tabby tried to jump from the ladder to the dining table and fall in spectacular fashion to the floor. Again, I laughed. She’s a cat; she got right up, walked over to the play mat, and proceeded to clean herself. Now, had this been my son (again, he climbed from the ladder to the dining table and ate a nectarine), I would’ve held him and checked his entire body for scrapes, bruises, and/or broken bones. I would have questioned how I could’ve stopped looking for one second to put my shoes on instead of having my eyes glued on him.

I already suffer from incredible “mommy guilt” for leaving him at daycare every day or getting home from work with just enough time to make dinner, get him fed, and ready for bed. I’m sure he doesn’t realize that I only get to see him for an hour and a half every weeknight. All that matters is that we laugh, play, and cuddle when I’m there. I never had that feeling with our cats. Not once.

They don’t need me the way my son does. They only show need when we are late putting down their wet food. They don’t run up to us when we get home. The level of care needed for a pet isn’t the same as for a child. And no level of pet care can prepare you for being a mother to a child. There are no sleepless nights or constantly questioning whether or not you’re doing it right with a pet like there is with a kid.

The comparison between a pet and a baby negates what it actually means to be a mother. I know some people go the extra mile for their pets, but I promise you, it’s not the same as staying up all night making sure your baby stays hydrated because he has a stomach bug and has redecorated his crib with the contents of his stomach…twice.

I love our cats, but it’s nothing like loving our son.