Motherhood: I’ll Never Get Used To This

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Before I became a parent there were a lot of things I didn’t think I could deal with. How did parents actually survive when it came to wiping poopy butts, cleaning up vomit, and living on 2 hours of sleep. Amazingly these things don’t end up being as terrible as you think they will be when it comes to your own child. (Ok, maybe the vomit part is still as bad as you thought.) But there are so many other parts of motherhood that I will never get used to.

I now have a constant commentary running around in my head.

Three chips left in this bag. If I attempt to open it and eat them they will hear the bag and come running. Why can’t they hear me when I talk to them but they can hear a chip bag from a mile away? Do I wait until they go to bed to eat these last three chips? Is that insane? Do I give them each one chip? You know what happens when you give a kid a chip. They want more….then there will be rebellions as to why there are not more….one will argue that their sibling’s chip is larger…..then they will be thirsty. I guess I’ll fill up their water glasses while I’m thinking about it. Wait, wasn’t I supposed to be doing something right now? Do I have clothes in the dryer? Laundry detergent. I do need that. Which will be worse with three kids, Costco or Target? If we go to Target they’ll want to look at the toys  and then there will be whining and protest over why I won’t let them get more toys. Crap. I should really clean out the toys piling up in the basement. Why do we have so many toys anyway? Maybe I should just throw them all away and see if they even notice. Hmm..I could really go for some chips right now.

This. This endless, useless, brain sucking commentary. I’ll never get used to this.

Then there is the business of giving up all of my personal space. I can no longer eat, shower, make a phone call, pee, dress, or sleep without someone infringing on my space. They demand to know what I’m doing, when I’ll be done, and why they were not involved. The eight-year-old insists on sniffing my hair,  like a magnet, the six-year-old’s dirty feet find their way into my lap the minute I sit down, the two-year-old insists that she is just being nice when “petting” my arm at dinner with her greasy fingers. I get bugs shoved under my nose, snot wiped on my knees, and peanut butter fingerprints on my shoulders.

I’ll never get used to this.

Then there is the endless feeding of and cleaning up after a family of five. There is never enough food in the fridge and the distaste for my choice of food is expressed openly and frequently. Demands of snacks, drinks, and detailed descriptions of what is for dinner make me want to stick a spoon in a jar of peanut butter and run far, far away. The endless food cycle which then leads to the endless crumbs, dishes, dirty faces, and spilled Cheerios stuck to the bottom of my feet.

I’ll never get used to this.

How about teachable moments? I am so tired of everything needing to become a teachable moment. Constant explanations of why we don’t wear, eat, or watch that. I always wanted to be that mom who gave full explanations as to why we can’t do certain things but it is exhausting and I will never get used to it. I guess parents coined the term “because I said so” for a reason.

How about you? What parts of motherhood will you never get used to?

 

 

 

 

 

 

13 thoughts on “Motherhood: I’ll Never Get Used To This

  1. Ashlee

    The running commentary is spot-on! I woke up in the middle of the night last night (the BF sneezed) and it immediately fired up so that it took forever to get back to sleep.

    For me, I think the one thing I can’t get used to is the constant compromise. I often have to let certain things go (like laundry) because I had to sweep the floor four times that day, and I had to put all of the food back into the pantry.

    Also? The guilt. Like, if The BF comes in when I’ve finally managed to sit down for a second, I feel guilty and hop right up to go clean something or start dinner. And yesterday I had a killer Bath and Body Works coupon, but before I even made it home I felt bad for spending money on myself. How lame.

  2. Jenessa Mullen

    I love this post! It is all so true! In my house my kids smell junk food (especially the ones I am trying to sneak!) a mile away! My daughter will even sniff out a chocolate bar wrapper in the garbage and then cry because I didn’t give it to her. The running commentary is so true! It feels like my brain never stops! And I have no personal space! It wasn’t so bad with my two oldest, but my youngest is stuck to me constantly! He won’t go to sleep unless I am holding him or leaning over the bed so he can hold my hair. But they are all cute, these little things are definitely worth it, and we will miss them when the kids are all grown up.

    1. Daftly Domestic Post author

      We will miss them when they are all grown up, won’t we? Then we’ll be talking about how we’ll never get used to the quiet!

  3. Yanic

    For me, it’s the fascination with watching me pee and poo. I cannot close the door on the bathroom or else they will stand on the other side of it and cry. My daughter now loves to run into the bathroom while I’m numbr-2-ing and tell me how bad I stink. Thank you honey! If you are not happy with it, leave!

    Hmmm… I wonder : How bad would I need to stink for it to be so much for her that she would leave me alone????

  4. K. Elizabeth @YUMMommy

    No matter when I try to sneak a snack, my kids always seem to find me out. I used to think that waiting until they went to bed would help, but nope. One of them always wakes up. It’s like they have some built-in alarm that goes off when I’m trying to enjoy something by myself.

  5. Kelly

    Ok this is so true. How about the daily public humiliation? “Mom, which jock itch cream?” Yelled In the grocery store! Luckily payback is a bitch now that I have teenagers.

  6. Angela

    The commentary in your head part is right on. Lol. I always try to explain to my husband how he can’t even begin to imagine all the wheels turning in my head. How come husbands are so immune to this?
    Angela @ Time with A & N

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