I see other moms who are happy with their kids, they’re reading books, they’re singing songs, they’re taking their kids out in public by themselves for activities.. that just isn’t our life. We walk on egg shells with Peyton. Any little thing that doesn’t go her way, lay the way she wants it to, something is missing, something isn’t absolutely perfect - you can bet your ass you’re going to have a hell of a time. Going out to dinner should be enjoyable for a family. For us, it’s a chore and a nightmare of a time. When she’s happy, she’s SO happy. When she loves, she loves so hard. Peyton has the biggest heart and will do anything for anyone.. until something doesn’t go the right away. She screams, she kicks, she whines to where you can’t even get a word in. She doesn’t sit still, she runs her mouth 500000 words a minute, her thoughts can’t keep up with her words, and sometimes her words hurt. There are many places we can’t go, people she can’t be trusted with because she can’t be handled, and more often than I’d like to admit, we stay home because it’s better than dealing with the embarrassment and anxiety it brings everyone to be out in public. We can’t do Walmart trips, we can’t take her shopping, we can’t run in the store to grab one thing, no matter how many times she promises she will be good - she gets inside, emotions take over, her senses are heightened, and our 5 minute quick trips ends up with taking a screaming child to the car. I’m constantly exhausted. I’m constantly annoyed. I’m impatient, I just want a direct answer to a question that I ask. I just want one task completed that I ask to be done. I just want my child to be like other children. I could never be a stay at home mom. After 48 hours home, I can’t wait to go back to work just to have a break. I feel so awful for feeling this way when we are having a good day, a good time, a moment where I see that something so small can make her so happy. I feel like such an awful parent for having any thoughts - such as, wanting to get away from my child to let my blood pressure readjust. Just a simple dollar store necklace, a travel size bath and body perfume, a sparkly make up bag I no longer use - I give these things to her and she says it’s the best day ever. How, just an hour ago, how was I counting down minutes until bedtime so I could have a break from her? & she goes to bed, I go into her room to readjust her and cover her up, and it all sets in.. I think about what a hard day she has every single day while I’m watching her sleep. Her emotions are everywhere. I know how exhausted I am, I can’t imagine what her brain is dealing with when she’s sleeping. She goes through so many emotions so fast, so many times a day, I don’t know how her little body can keep up.
Mom guilt is an ugly, ugly and real thing.