Exhaustion: the action or state of using something up or of being used completely
As mothers, we are often exhausted. We have 32 hours worth of work to squeeze into a 24 hour day. We are being used completely and it is so hard. Social media makes motherhood look like a walk in the park, but really it’s a run-through-the-park-chasing-your-toddler-who-just-bit-the-neighbor’s-kid kind of deal. Oftentimes, it can feel lonely and like nobody understands just how much you do every single day.
But I see you.
I see you drag yourself out of bed before the sun because the baby is crying and needs to be fed . . . again.
I see you walk downstairs and pour yourself a cup of coffee because you know your older child will be waking up soon–and if you want some alone time, you have to sacrifice sleep.
I see you sit down to read or watch TV before the chaos starts, and the second your feet leave the floor you hear that bedroom door open or hear that little one start to cry.
I see you pour the milk over the cereal bowl and all over the counter. You leave it there and plan to come right back to wipe it up but you forget about it because you’ve already moved on to another task.
I see you folding that load of laundry while you put another into the dryer and another into the wash, wondering where all these clothes came from and if they have found a way to multipy.
I see you sneak a bite of your children’s food because who knows if you’ll get a chance to sit down and eat some of your own today. Speaking of, where was that coffee that you made earlier that you never got to drink?
I see you feeding your baby as you list off in your head the millions of tasks you have to do today. How are you possibly going to clean the house, answer those emails, finish the laundry, play with your kids, and feed the baby all at the same time?
I see you trying to use the bathroom before they notice you have disappeared. But it’s too late, you’ve been caught, and now have little fingers under the door, little voices yelling.
I see you watching the clock, waiting for it to turn that magic number. You know, the one when your husband walks through the door and you finally get a minute alone.
I see you trying to get dinner made–anything that you can make quick and easy before your husband gets home. You want to give him a nice meal but now that you have a little one at your leg and another getting into the candy, who has time to cook an extravagant feast anymore?
I see you putting your kids to bed. Fighting bath time and putting on pajamas. Giving kisses goodnight and saying prayers, wishing you could go crawl into bed too.
I see you going through the house doing a quick pick up. Looking at the clock, trying to get everything done before it gets too late. Before you know it, an hour has gone by and you’re still doing a “quick” pick up.
I see you questioning if you really need to shower. Then you get in bed and your husband asks what that smell is. You fight your way out of bed, throw your clothes in the hamper, and stand in the warm shower way longer then you originally planned.
I see you get into bed. You give your husband a kiss, check the time once more, figure out how many hours of sleep you might get to have, cringe because it isn’t nearly enough, and slowly drift off to sleep wondering how on earth you can possibly do all of this again tomorrow.
I see you, mama. I see the joys, sorrows, and exhaustion that motherhood brings. But you are strong and such a hard worker.
You get up before the sun and go to bed after everyone else, making sure everything gets done. Give yourself some credit and a break.
Don’t beat yourself up if you didn’t get to that pile of dishes tonight; they’ll still be there in the morning.
If you are feeling defeated, remind yourself that your kids are fed, happy, and loved. That is all that matters.
You are a great mother, wife, and homemaker. And–most importantly–you are doing a wonderful job.