I woke up, ok inaccurate, I was woken up this morning and found myself in an immediate rage. Baby toes kneading my back like an unwanted shiatsu. Tiny fingers caught in what hair I have left, like a blood thirsty poacher's net ruthlessly plucking a kill. An exploded diaper, leaking shit next to my face.
My rage walked taller as it glided through the next mise-en-scene: displaced furniture and large toys from construction works in progress, dirty dishes all over, block towers collapsed, Pooh sing along with an enthusiastic toddler belting it out while readying himself for piggy back rides.
My brain bathed in cortisol. My temples tingled, my skin reddened, my soul vacated my eyes.
And here's the thing- if I were to continue this story line into the dark and winding woods of moms need breaks, they need respect, they need to be seen, society needs to recognize their efforts no one would blame me. Others might rally with me, agreeing whole hardheartedly.
But this is not the story I should write. These woods are not where I should camp. It would be a waste to spend my efforts justifying my anger, stress and feelings of neglect.
I think moms do - and are encouraged - to stay here.
We cozy up to our constant state of stress and disarray. We wrap ourselves in it like it's a cashmere robe and traipse about our stories and tik toks for our #realtalk confessionals to our followers, be they many or few. Forgoing self care and basic needs are the twin jewels we wear like diamond earrings, not recognizing them as the dangling cubic zirconia belly button rings that they are- this should not be our style.
We need to do our part in taking care of ourselves. We need to schedule in walks, yoga, plen air painting and rage room sessions. We need to have our relatives and babysitters come over. We need to find ways to take breaks from cooking, cleaning and all the daily work. We need to reject the constant stream of social media moms saying "Hey stressed mom, I see you and I am you" and we need to surround ourselves with non-digital people who can instead say, "Hey, I see your sweater is covered in baby shit, can I come over and do some laundry for you?"
Stress is not who we are, it is not why we should be gloried and honored. If we are stressed and overwhelmed, we need to do what we can to get out of it and we need to ask for help.
Camping out on stress, fatigue and overwhelm is like choosing to pitch a tent in the parking lot of a Burger King. Moms, please remember that serene forests with waterfalls, loons and trickling streams are here for us. I know we can't always get to them, but we need to have our backpacks ready by the door so that we can hike it out when we can get away.
Comentarios