The Dark side of the Moon

Okay, let me preface this with I love my children more then anything in the world. I just need to make that known. As much as I keep saying that I'm just waiting for then next circus to hit town and take them away, I wouldn't trade them for the world, most of the time, lol. I love being someones Mommy and watching them learn life. Watching Mac motor cars across the table or hug her baby, or having Ben snuggle up to me and say "Mommy, I love you" well most of the time, it's the highlight of my life.

But...I think there is dark side to motherhood that never really gets talked about. The complete and total submersion of my life and personality in the care of my children. I used to do things, I used to go places, I used to be Kelsey. Now I can't remember the last time that I got time alone without the kids. I always have a kid attached to my hip, carrying them in and out, having them sit on my lap, helping them up on to the couch (Mac is still too short to climb it by herself). The thought of being without at least one of my kids leaves me floundering. When I finally get some time to myself, I suddenly have no idea what to do, I can't seem to shop properly without a fussing kid in a stroller, I'm used to using my free time, stuck in the house while the kids nap, not able to do much more then watch TV or read a few chapters in a book or worse, clean. I can't even paint like I used to because the time is too short for me to actually get anything done. If you gave me a day to myself, no kids, no husband, no responsibilities, I'd probably end up sitting home alone, lost unable to find anything to do and then I'd go do the dishes.

And a part of me really resents that loss of self. I resent feeling like I have to be the best mom possible to my kids, the feeling that, if I don't give 200% of myself, I'll have failed them, sending them off into the world unprepared and hating me. Don't get me wrong, I am not a helicopter mom. I do my best not to hover over them and let them learn to manage. I will help when they need it (like Mac and the couch, man that girl needs to grow a few inches) but in most things, I let them try and fail a few times before I give them some guidance and then I will step back and let them keep trying. I think that they need this, but this isn't what I'm talking about. It's more the complete consumption of my personality for their needs.

I do my best not to resent them for it, and I try not to hate myself for it either, but it's a little hard, and honestly, I do resent a little. But I think that a majority of my resentment has found a home in my husband. I just don't understand how he's resisted. How he is essentially still the same person, yeah he has some more responsibilities now, but he can put them all aside at a drop of the hat. He goes out to a friend's house, or a bar with friends and he's not obsessing about the kids, wondering if the babysitter's doing alright, if the kids are still asleep, or if they're crying for me. He can tell stories that don't start with "This one time, Ben/Mac..." He's not afraid that by being out, he'll miss some cute thing that the kids did, or said. He puts "Daddy" in a box and he's just Brian again. Daddy is a part of him but it is not who he is. It's not the same with me and Mommy.

The other day, he woke up with the kids, and when I woke up (about 45 minutes after Mac) I asked him if he had fed her, and all he could do is laugh and say that with working so much lately that he can't remember how to be a dad. All I could do is stare at him in amazement, floored by the thought of forgetting how to be a parent. At this point in my life, I don't think that I'll ever be able to forget how to be a mom.

At this point in my life, for better or worse, I am Kelsey, I am Mommy.