“You are so strong Mumma”

The return to the school year this year has been nothing short of a shit show, one that culminated in both me and my youngest in tears this morning. I am a mum to three adolescent girls. I separated from their father 11 years ago; however, for their entire lives, I have been the ringmaster- managing school, appointments, birthday parties, extracurricular activities, and supporting their emotional and physical wellbeing, like many other mothers I know.

I have managed to do this relatively well whilst holding down a job and, in the last year, running my own business. But this morning I got a strong reminder from the universe that the expectations of many mothers (and some fathers) are not humanely possible to manage without the sacrifice of their own wellbeing.

It was a seemingly simple misreading of a text message about a program starting for my youngest. I got it wrong by a week and dropped her off, only to receive a call from her in tears, saying it started next week. I was still on my way to dropping my eldest off at her school, and despite all my efforts, I could not hold back the tears.

Feelings of failure flooded me, and years of pent-up emotion flowed. The logistics of managing my life, my work and the lives of my three girls had taken their toll.

When my eldest realised I was crying, I explained that I am just so overwhelmed with trying to keep on top of everything.

I am so fortunate to have a very wise, empathetic and kind 17-year-old who just put her hand on mine and said, “Mum, we are good people, and you made us this way. That is what matters.”  

Now that didn’t curb the flow of tears; it probably made them flow a little stronger. However, in that moment, she knew exactly what needed to be said and nothing more.

It is moments like these that I would have reverted to anger, frustration and deep self-loathing; however, I have recently developed new strategies to feel the emotion and work through it. So instead, I write.

I write through blurry eyes, with a weird feeling of relief at recognising that we need these moments to realise what is important in life.

It may seem to some readers that this is a bit of an overreaction to simply dropping your kid off at something on the wrong day, but this was the straw that broke the camel's back, and it is the tip of the iceberg. This is years of just keeping it all together. This is probably why my nervous system is shot, and my Garmin Smart Watch warns me every day- “While sometimes unavoidable, too many consecutive days like this can exhaust you.”

And I know I am not alone.

So many working mothers are just surviving, even with supportive partners (as I so thankfully have now).

We are not designed to live as we do now.

100s of emails, notifications, extra-curricular activities, work, school, parties, specialist appointments, routine health checks, clean houses, vet visits, well-balanced meals, physical activity, monitoring technology, supporting our kids' mental health, connecting with friends and all whilst looking after our own wellbeing. It is not humanly possible. When we have it all together, it usually comes at the cost of something else, a feeling of never showing up at 100% in any area of our lives.

I do not write this in self-pity. I know how fortunate I am to have the gift of children. It was a choice I had and one I am grateful I made. But geez, it feels good to say, this is so bloody hard sometimes.

As I wipe the tears away, fix my make-up and readjust my ring master hat. I feel a little lighter sharing the load with my computer, and now with others who read this.

I will end by passing along the message my eldest just sent me and sending it out to every single mum that is juggling the complexities of life at the moment.

“You are so strong Mumma. I’m so proud of you, you are doing so f.. well. I love you.”