I have a delusion. It's a bit unconscious, but it's always humming in the background of my mind. I seem to believe that you, the reader, and lots of other readers have it all together. That you have a fairly clean and organized house at any given time and to do lists are achievable. I am always competing with you even though you are a fictional character in my mind, who by the way, is also fit, witty, and very sociable. I realize this is NOT based in reality.
I haven't found a good cleaning rhythm or schedule as a mother. It's not usually a trashed mess but also never seems completely clean or orderly. This frustrates me because I feel as though I'm in a constant state of cleaning and picking up, which I have found is the complete opposite of mindfulness and makes me feel very restless and irritated. I'm always in complete awe of the mothers who have found a way to keep up or at least appear to keep up. Perhaps this is some fantasy that I've just projected out there.
I hate picking up the toys, burp cloths, random clothes, blankets, and dirty socks off the floor because within a couple of hours it will look the same. So sometimes I don't.
I also despise dishes. For some reason I have it in my head that it's possible to have a clean picked up kitchen for more than 30 minutes but I've come to the conclusion that that's only possible if I were to camp out and live in the kitchen. I equally despise the restless irritable feelings I get when I am constantly picking and cleaning up. It's a vicious lose-lose circle for me. I've heard of some women who find it calming to pick up. It makes me irritable.
This morning a light bulb went off. I'm not sure why because on the surface it looked similar to probably 40% of my other mornings. The kitchen was a mess. Dishes crying for mercy. Aftermath of a war with splattered Ketchup in the sink. Rejected brown pears on toddler plates. Last night's pots and pans on the stove. I was behind.
I also had a toddler sprawled on the bathroom floor, upset after I had set a boundary 20 minutes prior. I was sitting on a toddler stepping stool in the bathroom while brainstorming how to handle this new phase of my three year old swatting away any comfort and yelling every time I calmly reflected her feelings. She was a burrowed turtle shell lying on the shower rug. I decided to not touch her, but sit with her and verbally let her know if she needed something from me, I was there.
For some reason it hit me. That's why the kitchen is a mess and I can't keep up. I'm doing more important work at the moment. When she's angry and screaming and pushing me away, it would be much easier to go do the dishes. Dishes are actually much more appealing in that moment.
Granted, after a bit I let her know where I was going if she needed me and I began to tackle the kitchen because, well, it's a might balancing act. But for a good 20 minutes she needed me. Even though on the surface she was pushing me away, I sensed she needed me there, focused on her, even if only for a short time.
I found it affirming to myself. Dishes can't wait forever but they will be in a perpetual state of being behind. Can I let that go? Can I accept that? I'm doing important work. Being a witness to her emotions, being present, being available, and reflecting her difficult emotions.
As a therapist, I have seen many people struggling as adults from supressing and bottling their emotions, and no one accepting or bearing witness to them. So I realized how very important this moment was and to dig in, especially if mentally and emotionally I felt I could handle it.
Which leads me to, sometimes I can't.
Admittedly there are times when I'm just not in a mental space to always be there for her emotionally and sometimes it's okay to ignore the tantrum and just go do the dishes. That's the challenge of parenting. There's no set guidelines to follow for every situation. It's always in flux, with many shades of beige.
However, my mini epiphany was that I saw what I was doing, in that moment, as valuable, and affirming myself for it. Like gosh, that was hard and I didn't do it perfect, but I did good and it was just as important as when I worked as a mental health therapist being present with an adult who is depressed. Personally, it's more important to me because it's my child.
Whether I can mentally and emotionally sit and bear witness or even if I can't and I leave the room to ignore the tantrum, unconditional acceptance of her emotions is probably the most important piece. This involves more than just ignoring. I let her know she has a right to her feelings no matter how intense and unpleasant, I make sure she knows where I am if she needs me, and most importantly, mentally I let go and just allow the tantrum to run its course (as long as no one is getting hurt).
While she needs someone present, it strikes me how a difficult piece of motherhood is how much is done without much acknowledgement because of the nature of it. There is no venting to a coworker in the office next door between the hours of 9 and 5. Many tantrums you experience alone, with no other adults present.
While I don't expect a pat on the back for every hard thing I do (no matter what the job), mothering, especially those hours your spouse isn't home, can be lonely. Again, it's part of the territory but the affirmation and acknowledgement is significantly less than when I worked outside of the home at a civilian job. I wonder if this contributes to mothers' depression? It's easy to lose sight of what you're doing. Your world becomes smaller.
After a work meeting you might process with a colleague what you said to Tonya during the meeting. At home with a toddler I can't ask another adult, was my tone too harsh when I scolded little Jonny? Am I off today? I have no witness for a good 40 hours a week. And so, holding off on the dishes, not only helped my toddler but it helped me to slow down.
Slowing down.
Noticing what I was doing.
Being mindful and aware of myself.
Even if it's just to notice my own emotions.
I was able to witness what I was doing and affirm myself.
