It’s been said that women should know their place. In the kitchen, in the home. In the bedroom. Whatever the sentiment is. But I’m here to tell you; That shit is outdated.

I’m a part time working/SAH mom. Meaning I work 3 days a week and then I come home to second shift – ON THOSE DAYS – I come home to dishes, dogs, clutter, mail, bath time, bedtime routine, one more story, one more snack, one more question before my mind gets to rest. My plate, my hands, my heart, my brain – they are all so full. And they are so busy. And I am SO LUCKY, blessed and beyond anything I ever deserve to be with being a mother in this lifetime. To the sweetest two babies, and one more soon to come.

But mama is tired. Mama is so tired. Of cleaning of cooking of rushing, of begging for alone time, of begging for date nights, of begging my kids to clean up after themselves. Of begging my friends to understand. Of cleaning up dog shit. I’m tired of all of it. And this winter is NOT helping. I’ve never asked Dan if we can move south so many times.

Dan and I are coming up on 10 years of being together and there’s a lot that is so great. And there is a lot that needs so much work. We each have a therapist. We cosleep in separate beds with our kids. We have three businesses between us, and as thankful as I am, sometimes I just want more.

More happy. More rest. More downtime. More me time. More freedom. More life. More energy. More sleeping in. More date nights. More girls night out. More lazy mornings. More sex. More coffee. More spare time. More organization. More clean floors. More hours in the day. I’d like more of all of this. I mean what is this daylights saving antiquated bullshit?? If you’re gonna take an hour from me as a working, pregnant mother of 2, you better be giving that back to me somewhere. Anywhere.

So what’s the answer? Wow wouldn’t I be a millionaire if I knew. I like to pride myself on being pretty level headed and, well, all around awesome. I’m not pushy, I’m not someone who loves deadlines and hurried projects, or spending a day “wasted” cleaning the house when we could be doing something far more fulfilling like a family day, with quality home spent. But damn all the loose ends are starting to fuck with me and well, there’s this baby coming like a freight train with quite the deadline and though I have time, that time is similar to most things in that it’s already accounted for.

So here I sit on the eve of my mother’s would have been 60th birthday, feeling sorry for myself. And maybe it’s the everloving grief with a touch of impending depression I feel on these types of days over the last almost 3 years since she’s been gone.

Maybe it’s because she had such a full life and didn’t complain much. Maybe it’s because I miss her and life is really hard for me right now. Maybe it’s because as lucky as I was to have her for the 32 years I had her, I still needed her here. I still wanted more from my mother. I still need her guidance. And I need her now more than ever. And the more time passes, and the more life throws at me, I just wish I had her big loud voice and opinion and her big love filling me up and guiding me somehow. Because the truth is: nobody comes close. Nobody will ever hold a candle to her. Nobody will ever give me the wholeness of understanding that she did. And quite frankly, I’m done seeking it. All I need is inside me, and it came from the queen herself. All the love she poured into me, and the tough love she rubbed on me like sandpaper has given me the greatest lessons I’ll ever need. Has given me all the love I have inside. Has given me all the love I have to give away. Has given me the love I have to redeem myself in my darkest times. Her love alone has given me all the strongest traits I possess today, and I’ll be damned if I waste one ounce.

So mom, tomorrow will surely suck. But in the true fashion of grief, today will suck far more. The anticipation of the day has been creeping in on me since February. I don’t get to shop for you, I don’t get to plan a party for you, I don’t get to buy an outfit and find a babysitter and get all dolled up in your honor and celebrate by slammin back captain and cokes together on a Saturday night with good music, laughter and karaoke. I don’t get to do all my favorite things with my best friend and mom, because God needed her more than I did. And that sucks to know it as a cold hard fact. Know how much I miss you, and need you, and how I long to celebrate WITH you and not celebrate your life here without you. I want you to know that I still remember everything. The trauma is deep in my bones, and travels my mind in a circuit some days. As excruciating as it was to watch your soul leave your body, the aftermath is harder still. I wish you were here. I wish I was hungover this morning because we were together celebrating last night. I wish I could bring you back to spoil you one last time. But more than anything I hope that wherever you are, you can feel how much I love you, and how badly I wish I could hug you so so tight and have you kiss my head through my hair.

Happy birthday eve to you, my beloved mama girl. You’d have been 60, and you probably would have hated saying that number, so. I see what ya did there 👑