I am not good at asking for help. I don’t like to admit I can’t do anything, I don’t generally like the way other people do things I want them to do, and I don’t want to have to help other people do anything in response to their helping me. I am obviously kind of a jackass.
Right now, I am a jackass drowning in laundry, sticky floors/door handles, and diapers. I change a lot of diapers. In fact, I have spent about 7 years regularly changing diapers with a solid 2 more years to go. I hate diapers. But I digress.
Since Jack, my sweet 4-month-old, was born I have been very overwhelmed. I can’t seem to get any tasks accomplished in the amount of time I think it should take. I am late everywhere. And the real kicker is that I can never really pinpoint what went wrong or why I am signing my kid into school while hoping that the school resource officer doesn’t notice the other 3 kids unattended in my car. You know, in theory. I’m not saying I did that, DFCS. Even right now I can’t seem to remember what I was going to say next.
I guess it was about asking for help and why I don’t want to do it. I feel like since I quit my job, surely I should be able to accomplish the menial tasks I have to do every day. Any idiot with a driver’s license and enough literacy to read Go, Dog, Go should be able to do my day. I suppose I am embarrassed that I’m really bad at being a stay-at-home mom. I don’t understand Pinterest. I have no interest in home schooling. I don’t make creative dinners or clean the toilets all that often.
Shouldn’t I be able to both clean the house and get places on time? And why do I care? At no point in my life did I hope to be a really great housekeeper. The fact that I am disappointed in my housekeeping skills angers me. Gone from my life is the chance to win at something, the sense of intellectual challenge, and the encouragement of colleagues. It all makes me want to hit something (which is why I take classes called Boot Camp and Kickboxing, but that’s a different topic.)
So, help. It admits failure in areas I didn’t really want to succeed in anyway. It makes my fears and worries vulnerable to others and open to their judgment. I don’t like sharing emotion. I don’t usually like sharing my real self. If it weren’t for my burning need to have an audience on a regular basis, I would be a pretty good hermit.
I am good at hugging little people. I am good at fixing boo-boos and teaching them to read. They feel loved and valued and are becoming good human beings. I get that that’s the most important part of what I do right now. But they also have to have on clothes and eat every day and clean up spilled food and I just don’t have any idea how to get better at organizing all of it. Mommyhood is surprisingly difficult when it turns out that your primary gift is snuggling. Snuggling and sarcasm. I’m also good at sarcasm.