Confessions From the Closet

I locked myself in the closet today. Between the kids waking up extra early, the million demands from my micro-managing toddler, and the diaper rash on Moose that resembles the bottom of a baboon, I just found that I needed to hide. I quietly placed Moose in his crib and Boo on her bed with a book, then went to the closet. I stepped in, shut the door, and placed my back to it. As I slowly slipped down to the floor, surrounded by all the clothes, I began to cry.

I think sometimes we look back on our previous existence (pre-motherhood, because that is a whole other life) and romanticize it above and beyond what it really was. If someone had told me five years ago I would be a mom of two, married, and venturing in to the world of entreprenuerial dreams, I can almost guarantee I would have spat my local, organic beer in his or her face. I had no direction, back then, but I was complacent with that. To me, as long as I could keep climbing outdoors with my friends and partying at night I was fine. I barely kept myself safe and alive, I had no intention of giving my whole self to the task of keeping someone else alive and thriving. My life wasn't great, and I am truly grateful for the opportunity to be a mom, but there are days I find myself dreaming of the possibilities that come with being responsible for only me.

We all know it, but no one ever says it: parenting is hard. I applaud any parent who can do this job on their own. If I am truly honest, I would probably be wrapped in a straight-jacket and shipped off to Arkham if it wasn't for my husband. I am responsible for 90% of my children's day, including: getting them dressed; teeth brushed; bums wiped/changed; fed; entertained; educated; etc. Sometimes its fun, sometimes it really sucks. Sometimes I feel like my daughter's snarky comments and demands are enough for my to grab my keys and walk out the door. I'm sure there is some warm island with a tropical drink and a surf board waiting for me. And, I would give up a lot just to avoid the poop; good God there is so much poop. Wiping poop, discussing poop, asking about poop. Why is there so much poop?! I continued to cry on the floor of my cell, dreaming of the endless places I could run away to and start over.

As moms, we give our whole self to the job. Who we are and what made us slips away as we take on the many hats of motherhood. We lose our "mojo". The concept of feeling "young" and "sexy" disappears away as we slide into our yoga pants and jeans. Heels are kept safely in their box, waiting for the chance to come out on Date Night. We start to wonder what happened to the girl our partner met so long ago. We find ways to take a break -through exercise, shopping, or work- but the second we walk through the door that persona is gone. That woman is who I cried for. That woman is who I cry for every time I get frustrated and take a "time out".

Sitting on the floor, I could hear my tiny terrorists on the other side whispering to each other. I could tell from the sounds that Boo was getting the football for Moose. Then, I heard her climb on to the side table to lift herself into the crib. It warms my heart to know they are such good friends. She really loves her brother. My daughter is a remarkable little girl. She is bright and picks up on skills quickly. She tries hard to behave, but like any 3 year-old she will push the boundaries at least once a day. Moose is just as smart, and knows how to use his dimples to get out of trouble whenever necessary. Thinking of this, I remembered I don't really want to be the woman I was crying for. Her life sucked! I have so much more than she ever did! It might be nice to feel sexy once in a while, and made note to remind my husband of that, but I wouldn't trade my babies for it. I admitted to myself how ridiculous it is to think I could ever get more than 2 feet out the door, before realizing how much I need them. Those little arms around my neck, pulling me in for a hug while whispering "I love you, Mommy" are all I need to survive in this world.

It's healthy to cry. It's healthy to recognize when you need an escape. Sometimes the endorphins from my two hour workout just aren't enough to keep my sanity. Sometimes, there just isn't enough wine. Sometimes, it's ok to hide in your closet and reset for the day. After travelling to a far off beach and back, in my mind, I was ready to reset. I had cried for the woman I used to be, and was reminded that I never want to be her, again. I wiped my tears. I opened the door, and was instantly reminded by those excited faces that it is all worth it. They are what keeps me moving. They are what motivated me to take charge of my life. They are what motivates me in my education and at work. They motivate me to lift harder, run farther. They motivate me to get the laundry done! I may not always like it, but they will always be enough of a reason. They are enough, because they are worth it. And I can always visit that beach in my mind.