Hey Struggling Mom, I See You


My husband asked me a few weeks ago what I wanted for Mother’s Day.  My mind popped out an instant answer, and I choked it to death before it came out of my mouth.  “I want to not be a mom for a day.”

I hate that I even thought it.  I hate that I wanted nothing more, at that moment, than to ditch responsibility for a few hours and wallow in a day of no kids around.  It made me realize that I was – again – nearing burnout point.  That I needed to focus more on self-care than I had been.  Over the next few weeks, my body forced me to do that anyway (thanks very much, you villainous traitor!)


I love my kids.  Being a mom is the most fulfilling, awesome, amazing thing that could have happened to me.  It’s also the most exhausting, frustrating, scary, and overwhelming thing that I could have ever chosen to do with my life.  Parenting kids is hard.  Parenting special needs kids is … well …. let’s just say I didn’t sign up for this and I was woefully unprepared.

I’m not supermom.  I’m not Wonder Woman.  I am not strong, any more than you are.  These children weren’t given to me because the universe knew I could handle it – I just lucked out.


I know I’m not alone.  That for every mom cheerfully enjoying a lovely dinner with their family, there is a mom dreading the ordeal to come.  For every mom feeling cherished and pampered, there is a mom feeling underappreciated and overwhelmed.  For every mom out there smiling for wonderful family photos, there is a mom dealing with a sick, cranky kid or a meltdown situation.  I see you.


I see you struggling to put everyone else’s needs before your own.  I see your sleepless nights, getting up to slay monsters and put flight to the nightmares while your spouse sleeps, oblivious to the battle raging around them.

I see you worrying over your child’s future, whether they will be able to go out and conquer the world when they’re older.  I see you fighting back the tears and hoping for a better tomorrow.

I see you changing diapers, doing chores, and the daily 101 tasks that never end, never expecting recognition or applause because it needs to be done and you just do it.  I see you going and going until you wear out, then getting up the next day and doing it all over again.


I see you.



I don’t have advice or cheerful hope to offer you because I’m right here with you in the trenches.  All I can say is that you’re not alone.  I am not alone.  We’re all in this mess together, muddling through parenthood with the hope of not screwing up too badly.


I see you.


I am you.


Happy Mother’s Day.







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