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I don't know about other people...

Mom Edition

By Desiree WetzPublished 5 months ago 3 min read
I don't know about other people...
Photo by Shannon Pitter on Unsplash

When do the worries truly end as a mother in modern times? Am I doing enough? Teaching enough? Did we cover enough about stranger danger? Cyber bullies? Is my newborn eating enough?

I feel like it's constant. I am not going to lie, I have probably been child rearing for about 19 years and my oldest is nine years old and I am 30. Make of that information what you will. I have gotten to see enough of how times have changed because of this.

I'm expected to work, cook, clean, wakeup with sick children, feed my newborn from my breast even if it is a struggle and my milk doesn't want to come in. Oh, but let's not forget I must always look put together and people expect your body to bounce back to what it was before you had children. Such impossible standards when it's hard enough to afford childcare and if you need to work to help support the family, well guess where most of the paycheck is going. If you guessed childcare then, “Ding! Ding! Ding! You're a winner.

Now let's assume you're doing all the above mentioned strain, and now you're laying bed wondering if you approached every question your child had correctly. Did I give enough? Am I giving enough? I stay up at night questioning where I need to improve. Then crying because I know I'm giving even when I'm on empty mentally and physically. It's funny that I'm never on empty emotionally though.

That's the thing about living in these times that we do now. No matter what I give, it's never enough. I'm either falling short with the way I want to be for my kids or the way society says I should be. Let's be real having the body I had before I had 4 kids is the most ridiculous expectation I've ever heard. So is the fact that I have to do this all without complaining or eating. Cue eye roll. I can't speak for everybody but if I'm supposed to run on two hours of sleep, help my kids with homework and any issues that may arise, run them to their extracurriculars, breastfeed and bottle feed my newborn because this time around my milk supply was not good to me, and work my ass off: guess what? I'm going to eat!

Do I do all of this with a smile? Hell no! I'm human; I get cranky but then feel guilty for being cranky. It bothers me that any emotion other than joy for motherhood is frowned upon. We are expected to be robotic but nurturing to everyone. It's an unreal expectation. I already set unreal expectations for myself and don't need anyone else to do it for me, I say as I write this on my phone and breastfeed my just over two week old baby at 4:18 in the morning.

I can't even say my partner doesn't help me because he most definitely does. Probably more than most dads which is sad that the expectations are so low but again this society places very unreal expectations of family life. And yes I could totally reach over and wake him up for help but that's the mom guilt that prevents me. Plus I may be a little selfish, as I know these stages don't last forever.

Now here the trolls will come out and say, "No one told you to have four kids." No shit, Sherlock. I'm a mom because I want to be and love my children more than even I can comprehend. But I'm going to rant because I'm allowed to without permission. If you don’t like it than don’t read it. It's not that hard and id you think you're going to make me feel guilty well than hate to break it to you but I'm like ten steps ahead of you on the guilt thing. This shit is hard and anyone that says otherwise is lying through their teeth probably because of some form of parental guilt.

So I don't know about anyone else but I'm very tired of the unreal expectations placed on parents.


About the Creator

Desiree Wetz

I have been intrigued with writing since I was twelve years old. At first, it was poetry but then in morphed into a love of fiction, fantasy, and adventure. When I'm not writing stories, I am running wild with my family.

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