The Rainy Season

Kids have strained our marriage. Big time. And before you start to judge me. Have kids. I can’t even blame my husband in the least. It’s me. Kids have changed me. I’m a different person. Completely. I’m sure he’s just wondering if the woman he fell in love with will make an appearance again. I feel like a shell of the woman I used to be. A shell with dark circles under my eyes, spit up on my clothes, and a constant mom bun. Gone are the days of sleeping until whatever time I wanted , going where I wanted without having to pack for what looks like a week long vacation, and taking hours to fix my hair and do my makeup. Freedom. As a mom, freedom now comes in the form of leaving my kids with my in laws for 20 minutes while picking up food for dinner or a ten minute shower after the kids are asleep. My days are spent catering to two tiny humans who seem to have this odd desire to touch me every second of every day. The only real conversations I have during the day are basically my two year old repeating the same thing over and over until I acknowledge him and then starting the process over & over again until he falls asleep. At the end of the day I’m lucky if I have any patience left to give anyone and in strolls my husband . Fresh from his day full of adult interaction. For a second I envy him in all his working man glory. Let me clarify that there is NO place I’d rather be than home raising my kids but it doesn’t mean I adore every single day or every aspect of my day. It’s tiring, and wears on you some days. And then he says something that frustrates me just enough to flip a switch. Out comes all that frustration from that day & he’s not even sure where he went wrong. How could we be arguing after minutes of him being home? Where is the woman who was carefree and bubbly? Because we haven’t seen her in a few years and I’m sure my husband misses her at times. Of course he loves me, this scatterbrained hot mess of a mom version of me, but I know if I miss her sometimes, he probably does too.
The confidence that I once had is long gone. I feel like confidence is so much in a marriage and it can make or break your bedroom life…Let’s be honest. Now just getting dressed to go out upsets me; I used to put on clothes without a second thought. My biggest worry was not being able to decide what to wear. Now I dread trying old things on. There’s nothing more scarring to my confidence than having to go up a size or two in pants after having babies. As I get undressed for my shower at the end of the day, I catch my husband watching me and instantly feel the need to cover myself. He tells me that I’m beautiful and I brush him off, looking in the mirror at my post-baby hips, stretchmarks and loose skin. Mentally telling myself I need to fix my body because it’s all a problem area. Thinking that if I “fix” myself my husband will find me attractive. Did I just miss him calling me beautiful? Where is the woman who felt confident enough undressing in front of her husband? Even confident to flaunt what I had? I can’t say I was ever in love with every part of my body because really … What woman loves EVERYTHING about her body . But I miss the woman who wasn’t afraid to wear shirts a little too revealing. Or shorts too short . I miss the woman who felt confident in the bedroom instead of feeling like a blob and a mess who needs it pitch black to feel comfortable. Then the feelings rush in and I feel like I hate this new version of me. Hate everything about my new chaotic self, un-put together self. Like I’m barely holding onto the things that made me myself. Forgetting that just maybe this new me is better.
Social media has made motherhood look so much more simple than it really is. All we see is the good, good, good all the time. Everyone is guilty of it. Even me. I’ll post of pictures of the kids happy as pie, knowing that the next second Ryland hit Lilah on accident and all hell broke loose. But somehow I forget that and I look at other new moms and feel like they ALL have life together. I question why I’m such a mess. And then in typical woman fashion I expect my husband to know all of this without me ever telling him and then get pissed when he doesn’t understand and completely get it. That makes it sound stupid when I type that out. How is he supposed to understand something he isn’t going through? Why do we do this to the men in our lives? I really don’t know, but I do know it causes my husband and I to bicker. I expect him to help me. Help me find this level ground where I feel like myself again. But it’s not simple because he has no idea what’s going on in my mind. He’s wondering where he went wrong. Where he messed up and where our marriage changed. When in reality, it’s not him. It’s me. All these changes that motherhood brought about that no one warns you about. They kind of just sneak up on you and your marriage. Even without warning, He’s still got to shoulder the burden that is me figuring out who I am with kids.
I have hope though. Hope that one day I’ll look in the mirror and not feel disgusted by what I see. Hope that one day Ill get ahold of this whole parenting thing and totally rock at it, even just for one day. I have hope that I’ll be comfortable with this new version of me and that I’ll completely embrace it. She may not be polished, shiny and clean but there’s something beautiful in the stretch marks, mom bun and the kids constantly on my hips . I have hope that our marriage comes out of this stronger than ever before. I know our marriage can withstand the good, the bad and the ugly. We’ve survived a great flood for 🦊 sake and came out on top. I know for a fact we can survive this season of parenthood. But it’s there. The strain of our everyday lives and constant changes we’ve had over the past 3 years is there. Wanting to push and pull us apart. But we made the choice almost 3 years ago to not lot the rainy days tear us apart and that, that is what matters.

 

Until next time, Alyssia

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