It is archive week here at A Day in Motherhood!  Here is another oldie, but goodie!  

Originally posted 6/21/2010

In my life, I have pretty much done everything I have wanted to do.  I am a  “Damned everyone else!  If I want it, I will accomplish it” kind of girl.  That explains my red hair phase – ick!; dating men 27 years older – they were young for their age, don’t judge; and having three children in four years – I pin this one on my husband.

I’ve always set a goal and either accomplished it or edited it to match whatever I have accomplished.  Yes,  my go – getter personality has done well for me in my thirty eight years.

However, since having children, I seem to have lost my ability to function as a motivated, intelligent, successful woman.  And if it is before my beloved cup of dark, rich, indulgent coffee… mmmmmmmmmmm, I am a basket case.  Barely able to check my Twitter account without messing up my password six times. 

I don’t know if it is that being a stay at home Mom has lost its thrill, but I certainly can not seem to stay interested or excited about it anymore.  I mean, how many times can a fresh load of towels out of the dryer make me do the happy dance?  How many plates can I wash with a Cheshire cat grin on my face?  And at what number of dirty diapers did I lose the ability to think that it is oh so cute to change a baby?

Maybe it is the mundaneness of it all.  There are no new chores, only new messes.  No new activities, only new arguments.  No new blog topics, only different writers! 

Or maybe it is that I have the responsibility to create excitement for my children and myself and I am fresh out of ideas.   How many times can I go to the pool, or help them do artwork, or run and hide in a closet with a glass of wine while they try to find me? 

Or maybe I am so busy taking care of my four kids – you know I include my husband – that I have forgotten to take care of my mind,  self – esteem and IQ.  On a daily basis,  I feel brain cells jumping to their death just to feel useful!

It’s no wonder that there are specials on TV about Mom’s who drink – no, I was not on it – Mom’s who are depressed – I didn’t qualify, and Mom’s who have lost their entire identities to parenting and  thus live vicariously through their children.  There is even a website specifically for Mom’s to complain on!  I won’t name it lest it take readers from my blog!

It could be that I was just not prepared for the reality of being home with three small children.  I didn’t know I’d have to answer their endless demands over the call of nature, wipe their noses over brushing my teeth, and that I would be on duty 24/7 with no holidays or sick days.  And for this privilege, I would place myself out of any job market – except to say “Would you like fries with that?” – and not be able to earn enough money in a “real” job to pay for daycare times three and buy all new work clothes…  size 8’s just don’t cover my left butt cheek anymore. 

And I don’t care how many people say that stay at home Mom’s are paid in hugs, kisses and smiles, it still bothers me that I live on my husband’s income and am literally a true dependant of his.  For a woman who built her career by sleeping her way to the middle, it is a hard pill to swallow.  Besides, working out of the home Mom’s get just as many hugs and kisses so that argument falls on deaf ears.  

So I don’t have the answer to my lack of motivation to be a Mother sometimes.  The only plausible one is possibly that I have just become lazy and can’t seem to snap out of it.  I could be that I am burnt out and need a real break, not just one that encompasses running errands, but one that really got me away from it all for a real amount of time.  But getting a real break would require so much planning and explaining that it is just not worth it.  And there is the added guilt of taking time for myself, spending money on myself, and the added work of fixing whatever the husband screwed up while I was gone. 

So, I just accept that I have lost my go- getter attitude, or at least shelved it for the time being.  I could possible find it again in the attic behind boxes of children’s memories and empty beer bottles.  You never know. 

And in true reality, I would not change my life for the world.  I love raising my children, love taking care of my husband and love that the only clock I have to punch is the one that tells me its 5 o’clock somewhere.  I love that when my kids are good, I get full credit.  Forget that when they misbehave, I get full blame, there is a pride that overshadows it when they simply say Thank You to a person for helping them. 

Because in the end, what matters most is who will pick my nursing home and that little fact fuels my desire to be decent Mother to my children every single day of their lives.