I had romantic notions of motherhood. I always said that I knew it would be hard, but I don’t really think I did. I had visions of rainbows and cupcakes and puppies and butterflies. Sure, I’d be tired, but the pure joy of raising my young would pull me through. Sure, there would be housework and washing to do, but the sun would shine, I would pop some music on and the kids & I would dance around the house while I unleashed my domestic goddessness (yes, it’s now a word). Yup, there would be errands to run & grocery shopping to do, but I would bundle my cherubs up and we would enjoy the outings, stopping for treats at cafe’s and having coffees & baby chinos together, perhaps while catching up with friends. Fuck me. Stupid woman.
I will now enter a disclaimer saying that I do not proclaim that this is how it is for every woman, this is simply my journey. And yes, I do love my children, and yes I did choose to be a mother. We’ll get to that later. Maybe.
What I found on the other side of the delivery suite was groundhog day. For the past 6.5 years I have been a SAHM (stay at home Mum) with the occasional foray into the working world here and there, but nothing of any length or substance. I’ve found the same load of dishes that need washing 6 times a day, the same loads of clothes that also need washing every day, the same meals that need cooking, the same kitchen table that needs wiping, the same floors that need mopping, the same beds that need making, you get my drift. My life is like the fucking magic pudding. Every time I take a slice out of the domestic duties it magically reappears. It’s mind-numbingly tedious and beyond frustrating. Blokes, let me try an analogy for you..... Imagine you were a brickie. You build walls. One day you go to the worksite and you build a wall. Every time you stop for 5 minutes to go to the loo or have a drink or god forbid have some food some little fucker sneaks in and knocks down what you’ve just done. You have to start again. You continue like this even after everyone else has gone home for the day, until finally you decide to just say ‘fuck it’ and head home to bed. You go back to that same job site in the morning and, you guessed it, your wall is in complete disarray. You have to do it all over again. Once again, every time you make any headway it’s knocked down. Keep reliving this scenario every day of every week of every month of every year. Even when you go on holidays, you just have to build that wall somewhere else, the wall is always with you and it always needs doing. You can’t just not tend to the wall because then the roof that is teetering precariously over the top, being held up by god only knows what will come crashing down. You chose to be a brickie, you made a commitment to that building, you must maintain that wall. You’re not allowed to do anything else. It’s only going to be about 20 years out of your life. It’s not forever.
It has nothing to do with not loving my children, or not being grateful for the opportunity to raise them. Well okay, so maybe I do sound ungrateful. I’m not though. I’m just sick of groundhog day.
It’s come to the point where I’ve been neglecting the wall. The wall pisses me off. I’m fucking sick of the wall. I wish I were one of those women that basked in the glow of domestic bliss, that found joy & satisfaction in keeping house, but I’m not and I don’t. I love having kids, and I love raising them, but the domestic side of it, the ‘stay at home’ part of the SAHM is making my brains leech out of my ears. So why not head out to work – well for starters there is the logistical impossibility of that happening for another 6 months because Mr R (5yo) is still in kindy and his daycare doesn’t do a drop off/pick up with our chosen kindy – but after that, well I could pop Miss E (will then be 13 months) into daycare and head out to work...... wait...... cue Mother guilt (refer to previous post for the lowdown on that one). Besides, what the hell would I do? I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. Should I take this time to study? Study what? And who’s going to hire a 40 year old (by the time I finish my degree) who is a novice in this new career? Plus, as selfish and self centred as I sound, I still want to be there for my kids, I want to be able to drop them off and pick them up from school. I want to be with them for school holidays.
So, let’s recap. Being a SAHM is doing my head in. The domestic side of it makes me want to slam my head in a car door repeatedly just for a break from the mundane. Every day is groundhog day & my brain has turned to liquid. I want to do something outside of the home but I feel too guilty to do so and I have no idea what to do anyway. Instead I just whinge about it and spend more time than is healthy or acceptable daydreaming about stuff that I will talk about in my next post...........
Yep, that pretty much covers it. But wait you say, I didn’t resolve anything here, where is the conclusion, where is the answer. Hey, I never said I was any good at this blogging shit, and I never said I was actually going to write anything worth reading.......
This is so true and I'm so glad you've written it. It's easy to feel alone in it all too because other people rarely tell you the reality of motherhood. Woman often don't speak of the difficulties in motherhood for fear of people thinking they don't love their kids. It's a tough gig!
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