It’s damn hard. And I’m not afraid to admit it.
Before I had kids, I was convinced I’d be an awesome stay-at-home mom. “How hard could it be?” I asked myself when I got pregnant with my first child. After having spent almost seven years practicing commercial litigation for a highly respected international law firm, dueling it out in court, taking and defending depositions, wrangling demanding clients, playing law firm politics and going tit-for-tat with opposing counsel for 60-plus hours a week, being a SAHM sounded like a total breeze.
Cue hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.
Boy, was I wrong.
Being a SAHM was the hardest job I’ve ever had. When my daughter was 9 months-old, just as I was beginning to feel like, “Yeah, baby, I got this!” I found out I was pregnant with my son. (PSA: You can indeed get pregnant while nursing, despite what your husband wants to believe.) In less time than it used to take me to resolve a big case, I had gone from a high-powered lawyer in pencil skirts and heels to an exhausted mom of two under two who was, at any given moment, covered in unidentified bodily fluids.
Two years after I had turned in my lawyer card to raise my family, I realized I wasn’t happy. Chasing one kid to ensure she didn’t kill the other, whilst simultaneously feeding, cleaning and entertaining both tiny humans, and trying to be a homemaker and–oh, yeah–a wife, had muted my identity. I had completely lost myself in motherhood. I had nothing that was mine outside of being “Mommy” and “wife.”
Although I was terrified people would think I was ungrateful, or worse, that I didn’t love my kids, I finally admitted out loud that I wanted–no, needed–to go back to work.
I eased myself into it with a home-based business, and eventually started lawyering again in an office. My kids started school and my brain started firing in ways I hadn’t realized I’d missed. I felt accomplished and driven. I found myself again.
Then, March 2020 happened.
Under the weight of a deadly pandemic that closed offices and schools globally, I was suddenly forced back into the role of SAHM. Though my husband was home with us too, the heavy lifting of keeping our home in order and nurturing our kids naturally fell to me. Sigh.
Each weekday morning, I’d summon every ounce of willpower I had from every part of my body to make distance learning fun and interesting for my 6-year-old, who was, at any given moment, throwing himself on the floor, whining about how boring I am. I was simultaneously fielding periodic interruptions from my 7-year-old, who insisted her math assignment “doesn’t make any sense,” (it always made sense, by the way, and that’s coming from a math-illiterate lawyer), or announced to her brother and I that she was not going to distract him from his school work . . . thereby distracting him from his school work with that very announcement. Sigh.
Once that titillating fun was over and “school” was dismissed, I climbed onto my creaky desk stool to log onto my laptop to do some lawyering. At 5:30 p.m., I would stuff my face with cheese, crackers and Chardonnay in between chopping and sauteing dinner or, if it was my husband’s turn to cook, I’d do the cheese-cracker-Chardonnay stuffing in front of an HGTV “Home Town” marathon. Sometimes I’d fold laundry in the quiet sanctuary of my bedroom as a treat to myself. Sigh.
Swoonworthy, I know.
I quickly had to admit that I felt trapped. Trapped into being a teacher, a cook, a cleaning lady and a fixer-of-all-situations–on top of being a mom and a wife–all at once. I lost momentum in going after my goals and dreams. I felt an overwhelm and a burnout I couldn’t shake.
Has being a mom during the pandemic ever made you feel that way? Rest assured, you’re not alone. In fact, far from it; around 10 million working moms are struggling with burnout as we speak. While some folks might say we should be used to it by now, I say it’s OK if you’re not. The good news is that you can absolutely regain your footing. Here’s what worked for me:
Create an intentional plan.
The first person I opened up to about my struggle was my husband. Having been down this road before as a SAHM, I knew better this time than to pretend I could handle it all myself. My strategy? Brutal and utter honesty.
I openly confessed my misery to him. I never signed up to be an elementary educator. Most of us didn’t. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not awesome at it. I needed my husband’s help managing my kids’ school days, especially when it came to our youngest.
So, we created an intentional plan. I took Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and he took Tuesdays and Thursdays. Breaking it up that way made all the difference–for all of us. The energy I gained from taking a step away to do something just for me, even if it was work, spilled over into everything else I did. And, much to everyone’s delight, my patience returned.
If your partner doesn’t have the flexibility at work to help you, or if you’re parenting solo, lean on someone outside your home if you can. From extended family to neighbors and friends, there are people in your life who want to help you. Don’t martyr yourself or, even worse, believe the lie that you’re a burden. Women love to help other women; most of us just need to be asked. So ask.
Abandon the guilt.
It’s so easy to buy into mom guilt when your kids are home with you and you maybe wish they weren’t. I found myself cycling through feelings of resentment when my children pulled me away from what I was working on, followed by intense guilt for not having the patience (or desire) to have them in my face for hours on end, and then back to resentment again.
Eventually, I realized the mom guilt didn’t make me a better mom. You know what did? Acknowledging that being home with kids is hard, and being unapologetic about taking designated time away to work on my own passions. It’s OK to have goals and dreams outside of your role as mom, and it’s OK to want to work on them–even if it means your kids have to ask someone else when they can’t find their letter tiles or dry erase markers. That doesn’t make you “less” of a mom. It makes you human.
Let it all out.
As moms, we tend to put such intense pressure on ourselves to always keep it “together.” The truth is, it’s OK to cry. Being upset with yourself for crying is kind of like berating yourself for having to pee. Obviously, there’s a time and a place for everything. I don’t walk around blubbering 24/7 without regard for my surroundings and I don’t fall to pieces in front of my kids at every turn.
But I don’t hold it in, either. Being home with kids is hard. When I need to release the tears, I give myself that release. I vent freely to my best friends and my husband. I don’t care what I sound like or how totally “untogether” I seem. I need to get it out–and so do you. It might look ugly for a hot minute, but you’ll feel so much better afterwards. I guarantee it.
Remember that you’re doing your very best. (Of course you are! You didn’t wake up today plotting all the ways you could be mediocre! Come on.) Being a working mom isn’t easy, but it means you get to teach your kids how to handle adversity; how to show up for themselves; how to go after their dreams and crush their goals; and how to get back up when they fall short.
Be nice to yourself. Give yourself grace as you navigate being home with your kids. You’re an amazing mom. And you’ve totally got this.
Nikki Oden is the founder of Your Ideal Mom Life and host of the Love Your Mom Life podcast. She teaches working moms how to own their day and crush their goals–without the mom guilt. She is also a lawyer, a happy wife, mom of two and creator of the Super Mom Starter Guide. Download it for FREE to learn the three things all moms who are rocking it know!
Family
It’s damn hard. And I’m not afraid to admit it.
To all the moms struggling through the pandemic–you’re doing fine. Everyone is struggling.
