The not so funny part of farming children

I know I joke about the crazy of parenting, a lot. A. Lot. I refer to it as Mom Syndrome, one where the symptoms include having a dirty sippy cup or bottle under your bed and you hear babies cry when there are no babies around. One where you talk like you have Tourettes because you are interrupted that many times by your kids and thoughts of your kids. Did the 3 year old just go into the bathroom? Shit hold on for a minute while I check. Or is that the sound of running water? What was I saying?

Oh yes, motherhood is a crazy ass roller coaster. The humor is sometimes the only thing to get me through some stressful moments, but it isn’t really all humor. There’s a serious underlying tone to it all…

We push ourselves beyond the limits our bodies can handle. The Marine Corps says that pain is weakness exiting the body, and all 4 branches will tell you that your body can handle more than you think if you push yourself enough.

We moms put that to the test. Every day we do. And there is a breaking point. Yes, it can break you. It broke me.

I hate to admit this in a blog publicly, like this is a deep dark secret that should just go into the closet and stay there, but I am going to admit it. Why? So to help people. I also want to just fucking say it somewhere just because I suck at keeping secrets. I went crazy. Not a haha take your meds crazy. More of a crisis 2 week vacation at the funny farm in the hospital. That’s where I’ve been, and I am so grateful for the other admin on my Facebook page for keeping it going in my absence.

The thing is, there was a point in July where things started to get bad. There was no obvious trigger for it though. That’s because I’m pretty sure the trigger was I over did it.

• Years of sleep deprivation
• Zero ME Time
• Anxiety from trying to get the kids to school on time to trying to get them to fall asleep
• Guilt from being late to allowing the kids sleep in the living room
• Pushing myself too hard to be this June Cleaver paradigm that I openly admit does not exist
• Constant self criticism like I am never good enough for me.

They have medication for this, so it’s ok if you go there. If you ever do feel suicidal or homicidal, please utilize the funny farm. It’s a break. It’s a place to heal. To jump start you becoming a better, healthier version of you. I shit you not, I left the hospital today, and I feel like I’m looking at things for the first time ever. I was mentally sick longer than I thought. A lot of buildings and reconstruction occurred in my absence, and 2 weeks just seems rather short for it, so I was gone a long time before I went.

To every mom out there, the purpose of this post, this is the message I want to say to you. The message straight from the lips of my Doctor…

You are missing out on the best things of life rushing through it, and you will make yourself sick. That’s right. You will make yourself sick if you go too fast.

It is more important than most people think. It’s more important than dinner. Your time away from your family is necessary. You need to relax and rejuvenate from time to time, regularly.  And like my doctor said, what kind of mother are you if you aren’t there at all? Taking an hour or two here and there is better for the kids and less of an abandonment than being gone forever.

I know it’s not easy because I’m the one in the world where I get no help for anything, but being out of commission for 2 weeks, my family stepped up and did help. If they can do it for those two weeks, they can do it a couple hours a week on the regular. If not, I’m going to have to find a way.

I think in my case, I’m going to create a regular Girls night out. Why? The funny farm doesn’t offer adult beverages (though the pills are really hot there). I think I want an adult beverage. Simple. I know.

To all of you reading this, best of luck to you and yours. Please drink responsibly if you do that sort of thing, and please mother responsibly. You CAN OD on motherhood.