Super Mom Is Dead
I know - I killed her.
For years, I listened to the messages passed down through television, movies, public figures. I was certain I could have it all - a successful career, a happy marriage, perfect children. I knew I would feel happy, fulfilled and thankful for my wonderfully full and rewarding life.
Then reality happened.
Now, I must tell you - I love my husband. I love my children. My family is incredibly important to me and I can't imagine my life any other way.
But - it's nowhere near what I expected my life to be.
As someone who was extremely social and rarely missed a happy hour during my college years, I expected my adult life would be just a little less of the same. I made friends easily, was generally up for anything fun and lived on very little sleep. I battled with bouts of insomnia quite regularly, but it never seemed to slow me down very much.
Then, I became a mom. Not *only* a mom - a single mom. I was solely responsible for taking care of this helpless little person. I had the support of my family - which meant a lot - but I was alone, nonetheless. After delivery, I had the usual emotional ups and downs due to the insane hormonal fluctuations. I was overwhelmed with where my life had taken me - and I was scared to death I was going to screw it up for my new little boy. Luckily, I was able to spend the first few months postpartum with my parents. They really helped me out while I recovered from a difficult delivery and c-section.
After 3 months, I needed to go back to work. I had no savings and a mountain of debt. My "live for the moment" attitude needed major adjustment.
Fast forward a year and a half later - I meet someone and fall in love. Six months later, we're living together. Financially, we're struggling - but we're functioning as a family. We were both working insane hours to make ends meet, paying rent that was a major strain on our financial situation. My 2 year old was in daycare for 9 hours per day - and I was too tired to play when we were home. A little less than a year later, we are married and expecting another baby. We move to another town, in favor of lower rent and a quieter neighborhood. After baby #2 is born, I decide to look for employment closer to home, in order to eliminate 2 hours of commuting each day. My husband and I are both exhausted all of the time and I feel like I'm being pulled in a million different directions. I manage to make it through 10 more months of juggling my full time job and my family before I decide that enough is enough.
This was no small decision. I spent a ton of money getting my college degree because I *wanted* to work. I *liked* working. The problem was - I wanted to be a good mom *and* good at my job working with at-risk youth. My emotionally draining job was spilling over into my personal life and vice versa. I started to feel like both parts of my life were slipping through my fingers and that things were unravelling. So - my husband and I worked out a plan that allowed me to stay home with our boys.
The new plan was more than a financial adjustment. My life transformed from a fast paced juggling act to what seemed like a dead stop. I felt like my brain cells were dying one by one - with each little nursery rhyme, animated series and talking dinosaur. I found myself, day after day, in frumpy comfy sweats and a ponytail - with the occasional pair of jeans for those special days when a trip to the grocery store was unavoidable. I couldn't figure out why I just couldn't get it together to do all of the things I was "supposed" to do as a stay at home mom, trying to nurture my family. To add more to the pile, we decided to homeschool our children. It was clear that my older child was gifted - and it was even more clear that he had some "issues" that would have made him a terror in a classroom setting. I felt even more over my head, but I knew it was the right thing for us.
Another year later, another move and still struggling to find a rhythm as a stay at home mom had me close to banging my head against the wall. I had lost my patience somewhere along the way -- and I'm certain it's in hiding with those lost brain cells. I finally decided it was time to talk to my doctor about how I'd been feeling. I told her how anxious I was about the most mundane activities - and how that anxiety prevented me from doing some of the most basic, everyday things. I avoided going places because I was sure I'd end up dead on the highway somewhere. My weight was out of control and I frequently felt hopeless about ever feeling content with my life. It was a lonely place - and my husband and children couldn't do anything to pull me out of it. My doctor suggested I try medication for depression and anxiety. In retrospect, I believe I'd been teetering on the edge of depression for 10 years.
That's where I was as of 3 weeks ago.
I'm starting to feel less trapped by my life choices. I'm still not so sure how I ended up where I am, but I know I'm where I belong. I've made peace with my choice to give up my career intentions, despite what I hear about women having it "all." What I've come to realize is - no one can dictate what "all" means for every woman. For me, I want "all" to mean a happy, healthy, loving and content family life. I'm slowly working my way to having it all. In order to get there, I had to kill the myth of SuperMom.
For years, I listened to the messages passed down through television, movies, public figures. I was certain I could have it all - a successful career, a happy marriage, perfect children. I knew I would feel happy, fulfilled and thankful for my wonderfully full and rewarding life.
Then reality happened.
Now, I must tell you - I love my husband. I love my children. My family is incredibly important to me and I can't imagine my life any other way.
But - it's nowhere near what I expected my life to be.
As someone who was extremely social and rarely missed a happy hour during my college years, I expected my adult life would be just a little less of the same. I made friends easily, was generally up for anything fun and lived on very little sleep. I battled with bouts of insomnia quite regularly, but it never seemed to slow me down very much.
Then, I became a mom. Not *only* a mom - a single mom. I was solely responsible for taking care of this helpless little person. I had the support of my family - which meant a lot - but I was alone, nonetheless. After delivery, I had the usual emotional ups and downs due to the insane hormonal fluctuations. I was overwhelmed with where my life had taken me - and I was scared to death I was going to screw it up for my new little boy. Luckily, I was able to spend the first few months postpartum with my parents. They really helped me out while I recovered from a difficult delivery and c-section.
After 3 months, I needed to go back to work. I had no savings and a mountain of debt. My "live for the moment" attitude needed major adjustment.
Fast forward a year and a half later - I meet someone and fall in love. Six months later, we're living together. Financially, we're struggling - but we're functioning as a family. We were both working insane hours to make ends meet, paying rent that was a major strain on our financial situation. My 2 year old was in daycare for 9 hours per day - and I was too tired to play when we were home. A little less than a year later, we are married and expecting another baby. We move to another town, in favor of lower rent and a quieter neighborhood. After baby #2 is born, I decide to look for employment closer to home, in order to eliminate 2 hours of commuting each day. My husband and I are both exhausted all of the time and I feel like I'm being pulled in a million different directions. I manage to make it through 10 more months of juggling my full time job and my family before I decide that enough is enough.
This was no small decision. I spent a ton of money getting my college degree because I *wanted* to work. I *liked* working. The problem was - I wanted to be a good mom *and* good at my job working with at-risk youth. My emotionally draining job was spilling over into my personal life and vice versa. I started to feel like both parts of my life were slipping through my fingers and that things were unravelling. So - my husband and I worked out a plan that allowed me to stay home with our boys.
The new plan was more than a financial adjustment. My life transformed from a fast paced juggling act to what seemed like a dead stop. I felt like my brain cells were dying one by one - with each little nursery rhyme, animated series and talking dinosaur. I found myself, day after day, in frumpy comfy sweats and a ponytail - with the occasional pair of jeans for those special days when a trip to the grocery store was unavoidable. I couldn't figure out why I just couldn't get it together to do all of the things I was "supposed" to do as a stay at home mom, trying to nurture my family. To add more to the pile, we decided to homeschool our children. It was clear that my older child was gifted - and it was even more clear that he had some "issues" that would have made him a terror in a classroom setting. I felt even more over my head, but I knew it was the right thing for us.
Another year later, another move and still struggling to find a rhythm as a stay at home mom had me close to banging my head against the wall. I had lost my patience somewhere along the way -- and I'm certain it's in hiding with those lost brain cells. I finally decided it was time to talk to my doctor about how I'd been feeling. I told her how anxious I was about the most mundane activities - and how that anxiety prevented me from doing some of the most basic, everyday things. I avoided going places because I was sure I'd end up dead on the highway somewhere. My weight was out of control and I frequently felt hopeless about ever feeling content with my life. It was a lonely place - and my husband and children couldn't do anything to pull me out of it. My doctor suggested I try medication for depression and anxiety. In retrospect, I believe I'd been teetering on the edge of depression for 10 years.
That's where I was as of 3 weeks ago.
I'm starting to feel less trapped by my life choices. I'm still not so sure how I ended up where I am, but I know I'm where I belong. I've made peace with my choice to give up my career intentions, despite what I hear about women having it "all." What I've come to realize is - no one can dictate what "all" means for every woman. For me, I want "all" to mean a happy, healthy, loving and content family life. I'm slowly working my way to having it all. In order to get there, I had to kill the myth of SuperMom.
posted by SuperMomIsDead | 9:52 AM
2 Comments:
i am in a similar place... 3 yr old girl and a 17 mo old girl. Talk to my doctor in December, been on Paxil since January.. things went up, things went down, dose went up now im trying to keep things level and dig out under the mountain. I wanted to homeschool but i dont think that older daughter and I can make that journey without clawing each others eyes out.. i guess ill wait and see
I definitely think I'm looking at a higher dose at my next appointment. I worked in mental health for years and never expected I'd be on meds. But - even the low dose seems to have taken the edge off. I'm just not "there" yet. I think "there" would mean I don't feel immediately irritated when my 2 1/2 year old asks for grape juice for the 15th time in 2 hours.
Homeschooling has worked for us pretty well, despite all of my crap, because my 6 year old will work independently for most of his subjects. Of course, for the past 2 weeks, I couldn't even fake doing a good job on this front.
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