I’ve decided that motherhood is one giant compromise. From the moment I wake up in the morning to the moment I close my eyes and try to sleep in my cramped bed, every part of my day is a compromise between what I want and what I have to do.
It seems that every aspect of my life is compromised. It’s crowded. Every minute of every day, every thought, every action, everything that I enjoy is shared with the loves of my life. Nothing is completely mine.
My thoughts, nope
My food, shared.
My time, never.
My body? Absolutely not.
Not even my water bottle is all mine; it’s become the household water bottle.
My son is telling me a joke as I type this. He demands my attention even though I am clearly occupied. His feet are touching me under my blanket, which he has invited himself to share. Even my personal space is compromised.
My days are spent balancing motherhood and my career. I try not to spend too much time working so I can spend time with my kids, but spending time with my kids impacts the level of my career. Another daily compromise as I try to give everyone the best of me that I can manage.
Sometimes I think back at the end of the day, and I don’t know how I have done it.
My morning work time was interrupted by a child who likes to get up at 6 a.m. I sipped coffee while working through myto-dodo list, answering work emails, and jumping in to pack lunches and make breakfast for my early riser. I need to complete work items that are piling up, but I compromise by getting 1-2 of the most important tasks done and saving the rest for later.
The day was spent entertaining children, working in pockets of the day, feeding everyone, and thinking about to-doo-do list items I hadn’t yet made it to. I work out from home because it works best with everyone else’s schedule even though I’d love to go to the gym.
I cooked dinner with a toddler clinging to my legs while answering work calls and texts and fielding questions from my first grader in the other room. “Mom, what’s tofu?”!!?? I ate what everyone else wanted to eat to keep the peace even though I had another recipe in mind.
Bath time was spent multitasking, cleaning the toilet, washing hair, brushing my own teeth, and still answering the never-ending questions spouting from my son’s mouth. I lay with a teething toddler instead of taking my own time to relax watching a show. I argue with my son, who has somehow made it into our bed. We strike a deal, another compromise: We’ll move him when he falls asleep.
I’m not sure I signed up for such a level of sharing. I know I am in the thick of parenting a toddler and an elementary schooler, both needing me in different but constant ways. Some days are better than others. I know this phase of life will move swiftly by. I’ll have less of my time compromised, less of my personal space shared, and less of my thoughts occupied. I know I’ll probably mourn the free time, but right now, it sounds pretty nice.
