On overwhelm, motherhood, and finding light after the storm
It rained all weekend, and I nearly cried.
It wasn’t really the rain, though the gloom and gray never help. Life always feels easier, lighter when the sun is shining. On bright days I smile more and think about how lucky I am. After three straight days of darkness? Not so much.
Yesterday was one of those days when everything and nothing pushed me to the edge. Caleb had been up at 3:30 a.m. with teething pain, then awake for good by 6:30. I rolled out of bed wondering if I’d ever sleep through the night again.
The bulldog growled at me for ten straight minutes while I tried to finish something else. Caleb shoved a toy in my face, screaming when I didn’t play with it the way he wanted. No matter what I did with that ridiculous frog-in-a-box, it wasn’t right. His screams grated on me, and my patience thinned. I felt like a terrible mom. Then I fed the dog, Caleb quieted down, and the near tears faded — for the moment.
A couple of hours later, Caleb was tossing Cheerios on the floor one by one. Soon after, he was digging in the trash. He decided to rescue an empty crayon box. I decided sometimes all you can do is laugh. Later he grabbed my blow dryer and spun it around like a lasso. I laughed instead of cried, even posting about his antics on Facebook to keep my sanity. Sometimes that’s the only option.
Running on very little sleep, I realized I had something scheduled after work every single day this week. Book club. A musical with my aunt. Music class for Caleb. The town Halloween party. All good things — but overwhelming. On top of that, our vacation is less than two weeks away and my to-do list is a mile long. My fellow introverts will get it: downtime isn’t optional, and I have none this week. So I reminded myself of two things: one, I’m lucky to have so much to look forward to; and two, I only have to take it one day, one thing at a time.
People sometimes ask me how I manage to “do it all” as a full-time working mom. The truth? I don’t know. You just do what you have to do. But I often wonder — am I doing it well? Some days I honestly can’t tell. I’m easygoing most of the time, but my anxiety has a way of sneaking up, making me feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, even when it’s not. Sometimes I just need to let myself be imperfect, to not do it all, to freak out for a little while.
Today I sat down with my planner and wrote out my week. Seeing it on paper, one day at a time, eased the pressure. The overwhelm started to lift.
The rain finally stopped. The sun came back. And with it, a reminder: even the heaviest weight eventually lifts.
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