Chronicles of Mommyhood (Also Known As Life): Parenting Through

You guys, I have to start by apologizing for it having been so long since I last posted. I said I would post last week, but obviously that did not happen. Why? Where have I been and what have I been doing that I couldn't take an hour at most to write?

Quite frankly, I've been home, struggling.

It started the day after Valentine's day, or two days after Rin turned two. I hit a brick wall. I had done some fun, easy crafts with Rin for the holiday. I had enlisted her help in making heart-shaped sugar cookies. I had planned on writing a cute, but not necessarily mushy, blog post showcasing all of this.

And then, I just.....stopped. I don't know if it was Mommy burnout, or pregnancy hormones, my own tendencies towards stress and depression, or a scary combination of all three. But I suddenly couldn't deal with anything.

I cried a lot. I yelled at my child way too much. I snapped at my husband. I tried so hard not to do these things, to hold myself together. And it felt like the harder I tried, the more out of control I felt.

I wanted out. I questioned my ability to be a mother. I questioned and picked apart every little decision I had ever made that brought me to this point in my life. And I cried some more.

It escalated the Friday night after Valentine's. I truly lost it. I was so angry at my toddler that I was shaking. I wanted to slap her. In the face, you guys. I barely had enough control not to. I also have an amazing husband who knows when he needs to step in and take over. (It has taken me so long to write this because I do not want anyone to think I do not love my child. Or to think I'm an awful person. I promise you that I absolutely love her and I am against violence.)

After this, I broke down in such intense sobs, I started hyperventilating and having a panic attack. I was so dizzy, I couldn't walk. Andrew calmed me down enough to get Rin to bed. And then I cried on Andrew for close to an hour.

I was ashamed. I was guilty. I was terrified of myself. Who was I? Where did this monster come from?

The next day, I took the day off. After a ton of hugs and kisses, I left to spend the day by myself. I went to a dance competition to enjoy being around creativity and art. I had lunch while reading one of my favorites of all time, Pride and Prejudice. I talked to my mom. I gradually started feeling like myself again.

I started to write about this last Monday, but I just couldn't yet. I took last week as a continuation of that healing, destressing, reflecting, and remembering who I am as a person, as well as a wife and mother.

It's been long enough now that I can see the good that came from a hard week.

I learned I need time away on a regular basis to reset and to just breathe. During Rin's nap time doesn't count since that's usually taken up by cleaning, projects, and/or some shut eye myself. I mean time out of the apartment with no one in tow. It makes me a better mother and wife. And I refuse to feel guilty about it (it helps that Andrew is on board with it too).

I was reminded that my husband truly loves me and is here for me. That can be hard to remember many times when I'm wrist deep in pee, poop, dishes, cooking, etc and he's up to his ears in school work. But it's true.

And finally, I learned how to parent through my own downfalls. How to parent through tears. How to parent through tantrums. How to parent through all the muck and learn from it, so I can continue to parent through and do it better.

And now, for some lighthearted, overdue pictures of my now two year old.