Living the "Good ol' Days"

Today I woke up rushing to get one kid to preschool and one kid to grandma's house, just in time for me to log into a final exam - followed by a long grocery trip, a not long enough nap - and waking up just in time to get the kids home, cook dinner and leave for a 12 hour night shift. I'm feeling like my life is more like a three ring circus.

I had to do dishes just so I could make dinner. I'm throwing dinner together and I have a toddler trying to nap at 530, the other begging to play outside. The house is a total disaster, per usual. So I'm running around trying to cook and clean and get around for work.

Just as I pull dinner out of the oven ( with 30 minutes until I need to leave) - sleepy toddler starts crying...she peed her pants. All over the couch & her most loved blankies. As I am scrubbing out the pee soaked cushion, our puppy drops it like it's hot and pees on the carpet. So I am just scrubbing my life away, and trying not to lose my sh*t as the sleepy toddler loses hers over her blankets and the new pants I put on her that she apparently doesn't like.

It's going on 615 now. The husband walks in the house and is all like "you haven't even ate yet?" as he stands there watching me scrub as if my life depended on it, still in my underwear.

Who knows, the couch probably still smells like pee. But I abandoned my mission and embarked on a new one - digging through the mounds of unfolded clothes to find a matching pair of scrubs. Wouldn't ya know, laundry didn't get done over the weekend - found a clean pair of pants, but had to sniff test the scrub top (with luck, thankfully). Nothing a little extra deodorant won't fix.

Back up from my evil layer (basement) to throw some nuggets in the air fryer, since these kids won't eat food to save their lives. Throw a pack of nuts and some granola in a plastic grocery sack, pour myself some cold coffee and load up a plate of nachos for the road.

After 3 rounds of goodbye hugs & kisses and 3 rounds of fetching something I forgot in the house - I'm finally pulling out of the drive and only 7 minutes behind schedule. I've only clocked in late 712332188 times. I don't know if they really don't care because its 5 minutes less they have to pay me...or if maybe they feel bad for me because I come in looking a hott mess every single day. Either way, I'm not gonna question it.

As I'm driving and eating these cold nachos, reflecting on how jealous I am of my husband's morning routine of waking up 20 minutes before he has to go to work, taking a 15 minute poop and then just like dressing his one body and leaving...I just start thinking about how many mom's have survived this stage of life.

And honestly, I got thrown a bit. I have been told so many times "you're gonna miss this", "these are the good ol' days" - but com'mon ladies. YOU KNOW YOU DO NOT MISS THIS. This total chaos that has stolen your identity and left you feeling defeated day in and out - you do not miss this.

You know how giving birth is like one of the most traumatic experiences a body can endure... yet when you think back you don't remember the pain - and even more so, you decide to do it again, and again, and sometimes like 10 more times...

I think early motherhood is just like that. Like God created us to just withstand and repress all the crap that goes down.

Like one day I am going to have adult children and look back and I won't even remember how broken I felt most days. How exhausted. And then my mind will take me back to all those snuggles and giggles and kitchen dancing - and I'll be like "ahhh, yes. Those were the good ol' days".

But mother's who have made their way out of this long, struggle filled tunnel, please stop selling us young mother's short. Please don't dismiss our exhaustion. Own up to the "hard".

I want to hear that I am going to survive - we are all going to be okay. I want to hear that your house wasn't ever clean for like 27 years. I want to hear that you didn't play with your kids enough, and probably took more naps than they did. I want to hear that sometimes you just drove around at 1am crying and yelling at God because you just felt so lost, and you just needed Him. I want to hear that my struggles are not my own. I want to hear that your kids turned out fine, despite you not knowing what the hell you were doing.

I want to hear that despite all of this you survived the "good ol' days".

Young momma's, it is definitely, probably fine.

But for now...just keep doing what you gotta do to get through each day. Whether it's naps or wine, crying in the basement or eating cold nachos in the car. Just keep going. We're doing great.

Much love,

Maddie.