I’m embarrassed to admit this but, today was probably the first day in a month that I found myself enjoying being a parent again.
Nothing was different or special about today – we stayed close to home, the girls had their usual battles and seemingly unnecessary meltdowns, the husband and I miscommunicated about everything and yet still – I had a great day. Why? What was so special about today that the fog finally lifted and I felt a genuine smile creep across my face as I played with my girls at the park, as we read stories, as we did all of the normal benign parenting stuff that has been driving me nuts?
I honestly don’t know.
All I know is that the past month, few months, well – since the pandemic, life has been rough.
And I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. Every day my social media feed is full of article after article about how parents – especially mothers – are struggling right now. We are burnt out. We don’t have enough support. We’re told to practice “self-care” in a world that doesn’t support that practice. We’re trying to balance everything with the “mental load” wearing down on us.
We feel like we’re failing at work, at being a parent, with our relationships, with our households – ok we’re failing everything constantly and nothing is getting better, right?
This fall the daycare where both of our kids attend closed for a week. We decided to take advantage of the time off and embark on a week long camping trip adventure to 3 different campsites with our three year old and one year old. Yeah, that doesn’t sound crazy, right? Like many of you, my travel bug has felt so cooped up over the past year of not being able to travel due to the pandemic and giving birth during the pandemic, so I was biting at the bit to do something adventurous and exciting. Backpacking with two little kids? YES! Camping for a few nights on the beach? SURE! Then spend a few nights camping with a big group of friends? Why not?
The idea sounded great. I planned the whole thing months in advance and could-not-wait.
But, while packing my husband and I could not stop bickering – it turns out that planning a week long camping trip with two little kids, one car, and alternating between camping and backpacking required a lot of thought.
What were we going to eat?
How would we shower?
Would we need to find a place to do laundry?
Which gear do you need for a backpacking night that we can carry in vs. a car camping night where weight did not matter?
After all of that thought and debate over what to bring and when, and packing into the wee hours of the night, we soon discovered (after driving an hour to the campground and hiking to our backpacking campsite) that we forgot something – tent poles.
Our girls who have camped only a few times this season were less comfortable in the tent than I had hoped, and woke up 10x that night, all wanting mama (of course). I was frustrated not to get any alone time with my husband after they went to sleep and sad I couldn’t just sit around the campfire and drink a glass of wine – one of my favorite camping pastimes.
Day two and campsite two in Bodega Bay was off to a great start since both kids took a nap on the drive over and we were able to backpack out from our campsite all in one trip – that is until we arrived at the campsite and our site did not accommodate our roof top tent. The wind at the campsite was so strong we ended up hiding inside our tent for most of the afternoon.
Our one year old is in the phase of constantly putting everything in her mouth so I couldn’t enjoy a minute of time without needing to watch her like a hawk and run to prevent deadly chocking.
Ok – so you get how my trip went, right?
After the long yet fun camping adventure, we returned home to a week of no childcare for our baby – meaning I (just me, not my husband) had to figure out how to work at home with a baby who is not just going to sit by herself and watch 8 hours of tv (we do no screen time anyway, but you know what I mean).
After one week of WFH with an infant, our oldest caught a cold and couldn’t go to school the WHOLE NEXT WEEK – now I had a second week of a kid at home – albeit an older one, who nevertheless felt like crap, wanted to be in my space all day, and wouldn’t let me work.
As luck would have it, our baby caught her older sister’s cold, and now she was up at all hours of the night, not letting me sleep.
So if you add this all up – this is a full month of me trying to take care of sick kids, work full-time, and somehow do laundry/take a shower/wash dishes/etc. It was a nightmare.
I cried.
I cried a lot.
I felt so alone.
I started to remember the questions to the Edinburgh Maternal Depression Screener I completed during prenatal care and realized I would not score well if I took it today. Am I finding that things are getting on top of me? Why yes! Am I not enjoying the things I used to? Yup there too. I wasn’t enjoying my kids. I wasn’t finding my baby’s little antics and rolls adorable or my toddler’s jokes and sweet “I love you” so heartwarming.
I told my husband that I don’t know how people do this – how do we raise kids alone? In a society that wants equality but at home there is no equality even if you have the most loving and supportive partner – which I do. I’m not cracking on him here (although it is true it could be better of course). He also has a demanding job that doesn’t allow as much flexibility as my own. So what are we to do?
I don’t know.
And honestly, things got better because they do. In time your kids get over their sicknesses, the teething passes, they start to sleep better and return to the normal course of life. Things gradually become less chaotic. I catch up on my work. Everyone can go to daycare. I have moments (thanks to working from home) where I can go for a run during the day, a walk with a coworker, or do the dishes between meetings. I begin to find myself again.
Then one month later…here I am. Enjoying playing chase with my daughters. Smiling with pride as they greet strangers on the street and delight in each other’s giggles. I don’t know if this is pandemic life or just parenting – but there is a dichotomous way of existing I am trying to get used to – this “terrible wonderful” of life, that can have such high highs and such deep lows.
I just hope we all have the support and help we need to get out of the low moments when we’re down there…because even when we feel so alone, we are not alone in this.
Please share this with another mama who could use someone to relate to right now. Or better yet, comment below and let me know your “terrible wonderful” moments of the past month.
And watch this awesome short film about pandemic motherhood told by a diverse group of NY mamas.
*Hugs*
Puerto Rican & Indigenous mama of two. Bay Area native. Salsa dancer. Backpacker. Doula. Angel (she/her/hers) is a co-founding member of the Beautiful Brown Adventures team. She has traveled to over 30 countries and loves to explore the world with her two daughters & partner - one ice cream shop at a time.
You might also enjoy
How to Be An Anti-Racist Traveler – Our Thoughts on Raising Anti-Racist Traveling Kids
Encanto – How to Answer Your Kids’ Endless Questions
Unexpected Blessing: Our Unplanned Free Birth in Hawaii
What You Need to Know About Home Birth
California Home Sweet Home: Our Fast and Amazing Water Birth Experience
