April 21, 2008

A Slow Death

There is something of mothering that is a constant death. Not death as in darkness, but as in self denial. Maybe it's not "something of mothering," maybe it is the essence of mothering itself. It's hard. It's terrible. It's persistent, unrelenting. 

I started thinking about it the other day when someone called marriage "a death." It's true, it is. I have to deny myself in order to stay married. I am forced out of being self-absorbed. But being a mom is even more difficult for me. 

I'm annoying myself as I write this. I guess because I'm being vague and maybe bordering on preaching to myself. 

I don't like getting up early with my boys. I don't like my meals interupted. I want to shop when I feel like it, shower when I feel like it, walk when I feel like it, read when I feel like it, and make some money without spending it all on a sitter! 

And then, I know, everyone says it will be over before I know it. 

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4 comments:

sara* said...

Honestly, Sarah, I'm a little jealous.

Please remind me that I said this in a few years when I have written the same thing.

Anonymous said...

You may be preaching to yourself... but I sure need to hear that kind of preaching...

MZ

Anonymous said...

i wholeheartedly agree with you on everything. Being a mother is the hardest and most thankless job on earth. Does anyone care that I cleaned the entire house top to bottom AGAIN today? NO! Last night Jonah woke up at 12,3,5, and 6:20 am, and never went back to sleep again until 9. I was exhausted beyond all human comprehension. I love being a mother, but I dont always have to LIKE it.

Anonymous said...

I don't even dare look back in my journal from those days! All I know is that today my rose-tinted glasses make me say I'd give anything to go back and do it all over again. Twice over, even!
Mom