My identity has been stolen. I used to be Melanie Woody. Now, I am "Mommy, that's it" ~ in the words of Riley. Two young people have taken all that used to be me and turned it into a spit-up covered, nose wiping, bottom wiping, food cooking, laundry-doing mommy. I knew this would happen, but I didn't realize it would have the effect it has had.
The romantic view of being a mommy is quickly erased and replaced with reality when your only alone time is in the shower, until you see two hands and a mouth on the shower door, or when you have to go potty, but the door doesn't latch and Riley wants to know what is happening in there. Or when you realize that you have had a streak of poop on your forehead for who knows how long during the day. It could have been dirty diaper number one, or number seven. Or when you realize you haven't washed your hair in five days because shower time consists of a three minute window in which both kids are watching Sesame Street and you think you've gotten everything harmful put away.
Most of my clothes are now stained with food, spit-up, and anything else my children find, color, produce, regirgitate, or expel. So when girl night comes around, or a date night, I quickly realize my options have been drastically cut down. And the last straw that caused me to lose all pre-children identity: the purse. The sassy green leather purse I bought in Florence has now been replaced by a large (albeit cute) Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag. A diaper bag. And it's not like I get to carry everything I need in there either. Most of the time, I can work my billfold into a pocket and a phone in the corner. Forget the make-up bag, hand lotion, or checkbook.
I miss me. And even as I try to put a light spin on it, it's been a hard transition for me. It's like I woke up one morning and didn't quite recognize this new life. I know it sounds cliche. But if you are a mom, you probably know exactly what I am talking about. In order to stay home with my kids, I have sacrificed everything else. No gym, no yoga classes, no coffee with the girls every Saturday morning, no happy hour after work, no new clothes, no alone time, no hair appointments in over a year.
I do love my life. I love my kids more than I know how to express. I know I am sacrificing all of these things so I can raise my kids and allow them the benefit of a mom that is always with them, with their needs being my number one priority. But when does that benefit for my kids become a detriment to me? How selfish am I? This is my struggle. I need to find a balance. I need something for me.