I have several jobs. One pays my bills. One feeds my soul and fills my heart. They are both stressful-both are demanding. Both push me to my breaking point-and beyond. Both give me satisfaction. Both make me who I am.
If you know me you know that I take my job as a mom very seriously. Very. Seriously. I was lost most of my life until I became a mom. But I have 3 purposes in my life. 3 incredible, unique people that I am responsible for. They give me strength. They push me to try harder and go do more. They teach me, everyday, about what love is. I give 100% of myself to them and am rewarded 1000 times over. They are the reason I work so hard at my other job.
I don’t know if I am “good” at it, these jobs of mine, but I do know that I give every ounce of who I into trying to be good at them. Especially my job as Mom. I do know that this is the hardest job I’ll ever do but it’s also the best job. Being a mom is who I am.
Which is why today is so hard.
If anyone had said I would have a child off someplace that I couldn’t name with someone I didn’t know I would have said, with 100% certainty, that there was no way in hell.
I’ve been wrong about so many things. Add that certainty to the list.
Because today my little bug isn’t with me. She’s with her dad. But she’s also with someone I don’t know. Someone I don’t know anything about. And it leaves me as empty as I’ve ever felt.
Do I think she’s being mistreated? Certainly not. Do I think she’s unsafe? No. She’ll be fed. She’ll have fun. She’ll be talked to.
But she is confused. She’s a little afraid. She sucks her thumb more. Her stutter is back. She’s whiny and, if I am being 100% honest, a total brat.
On the flip side she’s telling me 100 times a day that she loves me. While it’s sweet it’s also a little heartbreaking. I leave for work like I’ve done her entire life yet now I leave and she panics. I get home and she hugs me and touches my face and says over and over “I missed you”.
When we talk about blue days-the days she goes to her daddies-she is so excited but she begins the I love you’s and I gonna miss you’s more vehemently. She cries a little more. She sits in my lap and tells me stories that I can’t quite understand about people I don’t know. It confuses her that I don’t know who she is talking about. It confuses her if I ask her a question that she’s doesn’t know the answer to like where does your new friend live?
At 5 she doesn’t have the words to explain what she feels. At 5 she doesn’t even know what she feels. She certainly doesn’t know what to do with what she feels. I am 45 and don’t know what to do with how this feels.
She when she talks of new friends I don’t say anything. They aren’t anyone I know. She still ask questions that I can’t answer. I’ve quit asking her questions. I am her mom. At 5 she still thinks I know everything. When I don’t it confuses her. It confuses me. At 5 I should still have all the answers. I should still know everyone she knows. It’s still my job to surround her with people that I know, and trust, are loving her the way I do. Teaching her the way I do.
Yet I don’t know the people she’s spending her weekend with.
I don’t take failure lightly. And today I feel like a failure. I feel like I’ve failed this little bug of mine. I feel like I’ve not done my job-my very important job-of being her mother.