I’m having such a hard time enjoying anything that I do. I feel like I need a hobby but I also feel weighed down with all of my responsibilities. For instance – there is laundry piled in the living room (more space for sorting) that I just haven’t gotten to. I know I was sick all week but still – I am frustrated with myself.
I don’t know how all of these moms do it. One to two kids, a clean house, hobbies, groceries, cooking and work (in or out of the house). It seems like you would need super powers to do all of that! I know that as Noah gets older, it gets easier for me to get things done and I know he’s still just a baby (as much of a baby as a toddler-sized kid can be, anyway) but it seems like we go one step forward, two steps back in way of his independence. I mean, I’m still going to go to him if he cries for me and I’m still going to sit down on his playroom floor and watch him play just because he wants me to, no matter how many dishes are piled in the sink. I don’t think that is setting back his independence in any way. But, I do get frustrated when he whines at me because I lifted one leg over the baby gate and into the living room just to grab a book. I know in my head that I shouldn’t because that’s part of what being a mother is but it doesn’t matter because I still get frustrated and I still need a breather and I’m still human. I’m not super mom, no matter how much I want to be.
Then I remember, like right now, that he does it because I’m still Mommy. I’m still his favorite play mate (if Daddy isn’t around, that is). I’m still the one he likes to sit and feed one goldfish, (or God forbid, one raisin) at a time. I’m still the one he likes to jump on and “read” to and cling to when he decides he still isn’t ready to take his first real steps.
Somehow, even though I’m imperfect, even though the crib is full of clean sheets and blankets to be folded and even though I have a wetbag full of diapers to toss in the washer, Noah thinks I’m super mom because I’m his mom and it makes it all seem so much better.

