I went outside the room and hunched over onto the floor, letting the tears roll down my cheeks landing into the palms of my hands as my chin trembled like I was one of the small children I was hiding from. Brick by brick, my strong mom wall came tumbling down.
Sometimes I’m tired of being the responsible one.
Sometimes I’m tired of changing all the dirty diapers—of having poop in the air so much I don’t even smell it anymore.
Sometimes I’m tired of being the one who’s “better” at rocking the baby to sleep.
Sometimes I’m tired of being tired.
“Where’s mommy?” I heard my oldest say.
“She’s just getting a tissue,” my husband answered and called my name because Mommy never just goes anywhere.
Because mommy is always too selfless to just leave. She’s too busy doing, preparing, and overthinking everything. She’s too busy getting everyone dressed, fed, bathed, clothed, changed. She’s too busy to breathe.
So, when my 2-year-old dropped a Paw Patrol truck on my head, I finally needed to catch my breath.
It hurt to the point where my eyes became instantly watery. But that’s not what broke me. It was the reactions I received: my 3-year-old laughed while my husband cracked a joke.
Can you be hungover from defeat?
Because I threw up in the form of breathing, crying, and heaving.
People say, “You’re like super mom” when they feel like you’re doing it all to show adoration. But we moms—we don’t want to hear that.
“Mommy, are you OK?” my 3-year-old asked as I returned to the room, embracing me.
“Now, I am,” I whispered.
Sometimes we’re touched-out from the day-to-day, and all we need are words or gestures as reassurance to remind us of why we do it all. And brick by brick, with the help of our family’s love, that strong mom wall will be built again.
Previously published on the author’s Facebook page