Saturday, August 15, 2015

Me vs. Motherhood

My brain.


Do you know how much kids can talk? I mean, we all "know", but seriously, DO YOU KNOW how much kids can talk? And sing and bicker and scream and laugh and cry and and and just




My kids did all of the above at Olympian levels today. I would have been impressed if it didn't leave me unable to think in coherent sentences for a good 45 minutes after they went to bed.

I've taken a few of those online personality tests and I always get some version of "You like being around people, but need time alone to recharge afterward. Make sure you set aside quiet time for yourself every day." And then I laugh and laugh and punch my computer screen.

Today I felt down right drowned in all the ways motherhood goes against my personality grain. The non-stop chatter, the constant neediness, the ever present presence of people all up in my personal space.

Kids couldn't care less what some Myers-Briggs test has to say about their mother's personality. They care that she has ears and is legally bound not to run away from them even if they ask the same question twenty times in a row (this is the law, right? Asking for a friend).

They care that she has a lap and arms and seemingly all the time in the world to play the "Inside Out" game ("Who has blue hair and is always happy?" "Joy." "Whose head shoots fire out of the top when they're mad?" "Me--I mean, Anger.").

They care that she has eyes to see every new addition to a picture they're drawing ("Ooh, so pretty! ...Exactly what did you do this time? Oh! Slightly changed the color of that cloud in the corner, of course. Excellent work!")

They care that she has legs to move her tired body across the house multiple times a night to nurse and hold and rock (even if she first used those legs to throw a mini tantrum in her bed, kicking all the blankets to the floor before accepting her middle of the night fate).

Often (as in, daily) I am so intensely focused on what works best for my personality that I lose sight of the fact that at this stage in the game my kids need my ears and eyes and arms and legs and full body, regardless of it sometimes making me want to crawl into a hole. That's the brutal truth of it. It's about more than me and my melting-out-of-my-head brain.

(But you best believe when Dan gets back into town I'm giving him a kiss and running for the hills. Mama needs a quick minute to piece her sanity back together)

Personality for days

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