Wanting Too Much

You know how some people are just made to do that one thing? To sing, teach, act, build buildings or run marathons? Sometimes they make it their career, other times it’s just a hobby. But so many people seem to have that thing they do and do well.

I’m a mom. I always wanted to be a mom and when I became a mom I felt fulfilled in it. But I didn’t stop writing and creating. And I didn’t stop dreaming of things I wanted to do someday. At least not right away.

Women are told they can do it all. Some seem to be told they should do it all. No one told me that. I’m a mom and most of the time I profess to be satisfied with motherhood as my thing. Except it’s not. I don’t actually feel very good at it most of the time. I love my kids and I love being a mother but I feel as though I’m failing in this position so often. There are other things I can do that I feel I am better at than mothering. Clearly I’m good at having babies and I’ve been fortunate enough to breastfeed all seven successfully – in a few weeks, my estimated time breastfeeding will total one hundred and three months. I’m good at that. But beyond this stage, moving into other areas, I have so many shortcomings.

I know plenty of other women who feel this way but so many of them have a thing that they do and I believe that success in that task helps them overlook some of the perceived failings in their motherhood. Some grow amazing gardens. Others write books. Some paint and sell their paintings. Some craft beautiful jewelry. Many go to the gym, eat right and stay in great shape.

I feel like I don’t have that anymore, though. Here I am, raising seven kids – kids who are with me all day long, basically every day. I do the basic things that moms are supposed to do – keeping their clothes clean, feeding them, doing the dishes. But then I just sit around and think about all the things I’d like to do. I want to write a book. I want to lose fifty pounds. I want to re-learn guitar, write songs and maybe even perform them. I want to take a pottery class. I want to make things again. I want to buy furniture and make it look amazing and new. I want too much.

How do I deal with this? I have no idea. I have this feeling that I don’t have time for it all. That I’m going to have to pick something and give the rest up. Then another voice enters and says, “You think you have time for something other than being a mom? You’ve got to be kidding me. This is your life now. Let go of all that stuff; you don’t have time.”

Who am I supposed to believe?

Do I have talents I’m wasting or is it silly to think that they are still there? Is there some other thing I should be doing? Or is motherhood really my only task and calling?

This may seem such a trivial question for so many people but know this: it breaks my heart not knowing. There is so much uncertainty in these thoughts and my actions reflect it. I am stuck, my legs knee deep in mud, fighting to keep myself upright and wondering if the branch reaching out for me to grab is this thing I’ve been neglecting. If grasping it and running with it would pull me out.

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