The Soliloquy of Motherhood.

11 Dec

I stand here ironing. Rolling this hot metal back and forth in rhythm with the pounds of my heart. Tap, tap, swosh, swosh. Inhale. Exhale.

His words echo in my ears You seem to have it all. My ungratefulness fills my insides with a sickening guilt. I am left with endless longing for so much more than I have. You seem to handle it well. Inside I barely hold myself together. I do nothing for me, and everything for the parade of requirement put upon me.

Having just swirled this special whisk made just for hot chocolate another endless contraption made to lessen the burden of the solitude of motherhood. I kiss the top of your golden head as I hand you your steaming cup, the glee on your face palpable. It should have filled me with something more than obligation.

tap. tap. swosh. swosh. inhale. exhale.

Begging for more marshmellows you both stand at my feet, palms out, awaiting. Rationing them out. Five for you, two for you. You wiggle your butt in excitement yet I feel like a communist officer allowing you your daily allottment of bread and flour. What would you children have done if you had to wait in long cold lines like my parents did with me at their hip? You are spoiled by society, by my guilt. You will never appreciate what you have, always having everything.

I will never be fulfilled by what I have, having had nothing but wanting everything.

I love you both so much more than you could ever know, but some how still not enough.

tap. tap. swosh. swosh. inhale. exhale.

There is so much taking. So much demanding. Never enough giving. Perhaps I am too selfish for this profession? Too bound up with my own needs, my own unfillment to find joy in the mundane. You are chewing on the bell of Santa’s hat. I am too tired to stop you.

It’s not only an exhaustion of lack of sleep. But the brevity of it all. Never enough time. Never enough. Why are there still six unfinished christmas cards when forty have already been completed? Why send wishes of joy when you recieve so few back. Always giving.

tap. tap. swosh. swosh. inhale. exhale.

Please stop taking down the Christmas ornaments. Please stop making so much noise. Please don’t eat that. Please don’t touch that. Please.

I want him to take me despite what it would look like. I want him to not have been kidding that he would take me to the place I’ve always dreamed. To walk along the shores of the Aegean sea, to run my fingertips among the homes of the Santorini. I want to go like an ache in my soul that cannot be dulled.

Please stop picking the cranberries off the wreath. Please don’t yell at your sister. Please stop crying. Please.

tap. tap. swosh. swosh. inhale. exhale.

If he will take me. If he will pay for me. I will go despite your hesitations. Despite the outward appearance of it all. If he will take me I will go and do this thing for myself. I will leave the three of you behind. And spend seven days in quiet. And I will come back, and be better for it.

I love when you lay your baby face on mine. Cheek to cheek. I breathe you in. And it passes faster than it came. The tears rolling in like a thundering from miles away.

tap. tap. swosh. swosh. inhale. exhale. done.

4 Responses to “The Soliloquy of Motherhood.”

  1. Polish Mama on the Prairie December 12, 2011 at 10:29 am #

    I know that feeling and the guilt that goes with it. And the lack of time. I know we’ve never met but I’m still sending hugs and prayers and hope that you can get a break away for a bit to find your strength again. Pozdrawiam.

    • Marta December 12, 2011 at 10:54 am #

      Aw thank you Kasia. I think I do just need a break! I think the holiday season with my desire to have everything be perfect on top of the stress from my job is getting the better of me.

  2. lindy December 15, 2011 at 12:50 pm #

    Hi Marta! I initially read this post from my email a few days ago and have been meaning to stop in and leave a comment ever since. First of all, your writing is absolutely stunning. The hair on my arms rose up because you really hit a note with me. Seriously, what mother doesn’t feel the strain of so many expectations. And the guilt for wanting, for once, to take care of herself. To be healthy and happy and the best mother, spouse, employee and friend possible we must carve some time out just for us. Hang in there–oh, and remember not to let the kiddos eat the poinsettias! (My kids always tend to go after the poisonous stuff) :)

    • M December 15, 2011 at 4:34 pm #

      Thank you so much! And we have no poinsettias as I’m certain my dogs would eat them =)

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