On being Super Mommy

I have a confession to make: I am not Super Mommy. I know this surprises you as much as it surprised me. But it's true. I've let my 4-month-old fuss for upwards of 10 or even 15 minutes while I tended to my older daughter. I've ignored my 2-year-old a few times. And I've let dishes sit in my sink for 2 1/2 days until I finally needed to wash forks because we ran out. Most of all, I've gotten overwhelmed more times than I can count.

Going from one to two children hasn't been easy for me. Maybe it's my severe lack of sleep and the fact that Carys would fuss until 2 or 3 a.m. for most of her first 2 1/2 months while Ashlinn usually started her morning at 7. Maybe it's the fact that the girls are so close in age and Ashlinn is in the stage of testing boundaries and figuring out her world. Maybe it's the fact that I only took 2 weeks off work before diving back into freelancing and I had already been on my own with the kiddos all day for a week by that point. And maybe it's just my postpartum hormones trying to balance out and failing miserably. Either way, it didn't take me long to find that my juggling skills would not likely get me a job in the circus anytime soon (which, incidentally, means I probably shouldn't run away).

I've heard lots of people say that adding a second child is really not that hard and that the real change comes from adding the first child. Maybe they know a secret I don't, or maybe they are just better moms than I am. Or maybe it depends on your children, I don't know. All I know is that at 2 1/2 months postpartum, I had my first anxiety attack and ended up in the ER because I had no idea what was going on with my body and thought something terrible must be happening. I was later diagnosed with postpartum depression/anxiety.

Until that moment, I had thought I was handling everything fine. I was proud of myself for getting back to work so quickly, running so well on so little sleep, and taking really good care of my kids in the process. I mean, yes, it was challenging, but I really thought I was doing fine with it. Unfortunately, my body wasn't designed to get 4 hours of broken-up sleep a night for 2 1/2 months straight, and my hormones weren't really on my side either. And so I crashed.

Now it's been another almost 2 months, and I'm slowly starting to feel like myself again. I took a couple weeks off work. I'm getting more rest and taking more walks to get out in the sunshine and get some exercise. And I'm taking some medicine, even though I hated to take that route and put it off for several weeks.

It's been humbling to realize that I can't do it all. I can't do and be everything I want to for my kids, my husband, my work, my friends, my family, etc. Mostly I can't be everything I want to be for myself, because really I'm the one who expects all of this from myself--not anyone else. But I can be what I can be, what God grants me the strength to be--and that's all that I really need to be.

And so I'm trying to let go of the expectation that I will be able to do it all. Now my goal is to truly enjoy being home with my sweet kiddos, be present when I'm with my wonderful husband, and keep a balanced perspective on all of the other demands. Lastly, I'm trying to cut myself some slack and keep a positive and joyful attitude. I may not be Super Mommy, but that's ok...for the most part. :)