The breakfasts, the snacks, the laundry, the small plastic toys that find their way under your bare feet as you walk around the house chasing children with a spoonful of the meal you spent an hour preparing and they just won’t touch; the silly yet sticky children songs that skate through your mind all day long, the never-ending to-do list, the silence, the loneliness sometimes experienced during nap time. The so many hours that a stay-at-home-mom spends residing in her island, away from everything and everyone. Trapped within her thoughts, not knowing what to do with herself.
Motherhood is the single most important thing that gives meaning to my life. I wanted to be a mom for so long and have been rewarded with laughter, and tears, and memories that have left their prints on my skin. But it has also been the hardest, most-challenging experience that I have had.
I never doubt that my decision of staying at home with my children was the right one. It makes me proud to say that it was my milk, my caresses and my voice the ones that nourished my babies. I enjoy being the one summarizing the achievements of the day to my husband. But I find it hard sometimes to qualify within the stereotype of a stay-at-home-mom: always organized, always feeding healthy food to her children, always taking them to enriching activities, always educating and instructing… always happy.
It is hard to keep up with such expectations -especially when society thinks you should be thankful for having such a rewarding job. Loneliness and isolation are part of the job description but not many stay-at-home-moms talk about it, express their feelings or have an outlet. So they just pack away their emotions and take them with them to their personal islands, locking them into a chest and burring them in the sand.
I know that when I was feeling lost and abandoned it took me a while before I could send a message in a bottle for someone to come rescue me from the tempestous shore where I was standing. But when I did, I no longer stood barefoot and alone facing the rage of the waves. I had found a way to leave that lonely place.
If it wasn’t for me reaching out, and someone answering my call, I would probably have made a permanent residence of my island. I have learned when to call a friend but have you? Are you still pretending at playdates that everything is perfect while you are crumbling at home? If you are, find the courage to send that message in a bottle. You just never know who may respond.