Today has been one of those days where I questioned every decision I ever made.
It’s been a day where I felt as if I had to answer one more question from any of the people who live with me, I’d snap.
Today being a mom to three, wife to one, and the owner of a possessed kitchen appliance doesn’t feel as great as it usually does. I’m tempted to just run as far away as possible and leave no return address.
Of course I don’t.
It’s not just because of the promise I made to my husband and my children that I would be here in good times and bad. Or because I know wherever I would go my family would find me.
No I survive “these days” because I remember what it was like before I was a wife to one, mom of three, and owner of a possessed kitchen appliance.
I remember what it was like to be profoundly lonely and feeling I’d never meet a man who really understood me for all my wonderful, complicated messiness.
And I remember the day I met Joe and found out that in fact there was someone who not only understood the real me, but actually liked me, just the way that I was.
I didn’t have to wear the “right” clothes, or act the “right” way. I just had to be me, and for once in my life that was enough.
I remember desperately wanting to be a mother while suffering miscarriage after miscarriage and wondering why I couldn’t have the one thing in life I so wanted. Then I remember the day I held my first son and knew that my prayers were answered.
I remember being so sad that we couldn’t get pregnant again. There I was on a midtown street crying in Joe’s arms because my tests had shown that my hormone levels were extremely low. There was little chance of me being pregnant this time, and it was really looking as if a second child wasn’t possible.
A year later I was holding my daughter in my arms and not quite believing that I was now the mom of a boy and a girl.
A few more years passed, and I was a little blue the day I bought “big girl” wallpaper for Lizzy because it meant my days of mothering babies were over. I gave away baby clothes, bedding, and other items we no longer needed. Three weeks after that rite of passage, I was shocked when I saw a positive pregnancy test staring back at me and relieved I didn’t give away my cradle.
When Peter was born, Tom and Lizzy visited us in the hospital and were so excited to meet their new brother.
I know in my heart that the best days I had before I knew the four most important people in my life can’t even hold a candle to my worst day being a wife and mom.
Some days I just need to remember.