Every morning when my alarm goes off I go on autopilot. I roll over, snuggle our son and we have our morning nursing session. It’s the calmest part of our morning. It’s our time to connect and for me to make sure his needs are met and he feels ready to start his day. Then it’s time to get our daughter up, dressed, fed, and hair done to her exact specifications. I want her to feel confident and excited for the day ahead. Next, it’s making lunches, coffee, and out the door. You’ve already been at work for two hours but I will text you to vent about my morning, forgetting to ask you about how your day is going so far. I’m sorry.
We both work long, busy days. You get the kids and start dinner. I come in, exhausted, but I keep my smile on my face and try to match the kids’ excitement when I walk through the door because I always want to make sure they feel loved. I head to the couch to nurse our son, a time to reconnect, while I ask our daughter all about her day. I forget to kiss you hello again. I’m sorry. I hear all about school, playtime and what she learned today. I try to ask you how your day was but I keep getting interrupted with “Mommy, Mommy, let me tell you… I have to tell you a question.” I’m sorry.
We only get a couple of hours a day together as a family before it’s time for bed. Just enough time for a little bit of play and our bedtime routine and my mom guilt tells me to make the most of this short time with them. By the time the kids are asleep, I am both mentally exhausted and still spinning with things that need to get done. We need diapers, wipes, and something to represent the letter P for show and tell tomorrow. I can’t come to bed just yet. I’m sorry.
Life with small children is hectic. There’s boo-boos to kiss, hugs to give, lessons to teach. We want them to feel loved and grow into good humans. All of this takes time away from us, away from you, and I’m sorry. The juggle is hard. And struggle is real. Sometimes I take your adult-ness for granted. As the only other person in the house over 4 feet tall, your maturity, and understanding sometimes means that you are the first person I will cut corners with because you are the only one who won’t throw a tantrum. I’m sorry.
Someday soon this phase will be over. There will be more independence. There will be more time for us. Parenting will always be our focus. You, like me, live for our kids but we, as a couple and as individuals, should be equally as important. Every day I tell myself I will do better. Until then, I’m sorry.
