Tonight I had a breakdown to my husband. We were standing in the kitchen. I was trying to tell him about all of the to-do items on my list and broke down into tears. The list seemed never ending. As I went down the list in my head, it exhausted me and I knew that my body was wearing down as I tried to adequately complete each item.
The car needs an oil change, but the two places I went to today were not able to help me, so that was pushed back until tomorrow.
We need to contact the repair company for the dishwasher to make sure that they are going to be coming out to fix it soon. It’s been two weeks of handwashing dishes and we just don’t have that kind of counter space.
Little Mister’s tuition for the month is due and we need to figure out what he is doing next year. Is he going to continue to go to day school or am I going to try to homeschool him? He’s grown so much in school that it really is beneficial, but is he ready for the kind of regiment that the next year would require?
The diapers need to be washed today. We need to make sure that we start them with enough time they can be finished before bedtime. The kiddos need to have their overnight diapers ready.
Tonight is my mom’s group. We need to make sure that we leave with enough time to have dinner at the church before hand.
I need to start plans for Little Miss’s birthday party. We need to start conversations with individuals who might be making things like a cake or cookies.
I need to respond to our family photographer about the bluebonnet photos. Those are right around the corner and I need to make sure I have Little Miss’s First Year outfit picked out for them.
The list goes on and on. And many of the items include that magical word- we. I always seem to use that word, both in discussions with my husband and in my own head, but most of the time, that turns into a me. Not usually by any fault of my husband, but because I think he believes I have it handled and he has his own list of to-dos.
But I can’t do it all on my own. Not anymore. Not with two kids, a side gig, and the blog. I need help. And I know I’m not alone in this. So here is my open letter to the tired mama:
Dear Tired Mama,
I see you, clenching that cup of cold coffee that you forgot was in the microwave. I see you, holding onto that Route 44 Diet Coke like it’s your entire life force, giving you strength to make it through the afternoon. I see you, counting down the minutes until bedtime when you can try for the fifth time and finish that episode of Grey’s Anatomy.
It’s exhausting, being a mama. It’s a life of never-ending lists. It’s a life of never-ending responsibilities. It’s a life that is oftentimes lonely and isolating. It’s a life of contradictions when you love your children so entirely and completely but are just praying that tonight they will stay asleep in their own beds. It’s a life where you cherish each hug and snuggle, but can be completely touched-out by the end of the day.
As you start each morning, just a little more tired than you were the morning before, you start your day of lists. You list in your head everything that needs to be done in order to get the kids out the door and to school. You list the steps it takes to make lunches, dress the kids and yourself, and prep for the day ahead. You list your to-dos for the day, making sure you are able to work around nap times, meal times, and activities. You prioritize and you categorize. You try to multitask when you can. You work through your lists as best you can, adjusting when necessary.
As you reach the end of the day, you realize all the things that have yet to be completed. You realize there are items that will have to be pushed to the next day. You chastise yourself for something you didn’t get to – the house didn’t get vacuumed; there are still dishes to be washed; the laundry isn’t folded; the car still needs gas.
There is that sweet voice wanting you to read them one more bedtime story and it’s everything you can do to stay awake during that last story where that dang mouse gets the cookie that you really want. If only you had time to actually make some cookies. Add that to the list.
It is natural, as moms, to work from a list. From the birth of our children, our life is composed of lists. Baby registry lists. Birth plan lists. Lists of pediatricians and OBs. These just progress into school supply lists, reading lists, and more.
So, Tired Mama, break the pattern. Take a step away for a moment from the list. I’m not saying to go crazy and throw out the list. I know I would be digging it out of the trash the first time someone’s back was turned. But take a second to turn the list over, look away from the list, and into your family’s faces. Look to your partner for help. You don’t have to do it alone, but they won’t know what’s on your list unless you pass it over to them.
Tired Mama, the exhaustion won’t go away. Like your children are a part of you, being tired will become a part of you. But become exhausted from the play time with your kids. Become exhausted of reading the same books with them. Become exhausted from the memories. The lists will still be there when you come back, maybe a little shorter with some help from others.
Tired Mama, I see you struggling to keep your eyes open. I see you mainlining that caffeine. It’s all worth it, mama. The exhaustion is worth the memories you can create with your kiddos, if you just take the time to turn the list over. <3