Only the mind of a mother can be this messy.
Hey you, mama in the corner feeding your baby. Yes, you. The one with the yoga pants, who probably doesn’t have time for yoga unless stretching from one toy to another during clean-up counts.
You look like you have it all together, and maybe you do to an outsider—hell, I don’t even see a visible spit up mark on you.
But I know you’re feeling overwhelmed because exhaustion can do that to a person. And I’m a mother too, so trust me I KNOW THE TIRED.
You haven’t had a good night’s rest in a long time, and one of your children needs to be potty-trained, and you have to fill out that form, and—
You have a lot going on in that mind of yours, don’t you? That mind that holds the answers to all of your innermost thoughts.
The mind of a mother is always thinking, worrying, prompting reminders of the day-to-day schedule.
Sometimes we don’t hear people talking to us because we are too overtaken by all of the pending tasks and worries.
Husband: “Hello, are you even listening to me?”
Me: “Of course.” *Of course, I wasn’t. I was thinking of things I need to put into my diaper bag. *
The thoughts we hear become booming loud and so quick moving, making it hard to focus on what we are talking about during a conversation.
Take the other night:
Me: “So I need to tell you something so funny that Viv did (my three-year-old). Oh, but did you see the other iPad? And did you also order the size six diapers? And what do you think she would rather have for lunch tomorrow a bagel or a turkey sandwich?”
Husband: “You’re all over the place. Calm down.”
Me: “I’m calm.” *Frustrated that he can’t understand, while starting to make my eldest lunch, while thinking about where that darn iPad is.*
As mothers, our brains are polluted.
You think our houses get messy? You should take a look at the chaos going on in our minds.
It’s a disaster area in there. Like we’re five loads of laundry behind in there, and the mess of thoughts are scattered because there isn’t enough time in a day to conquer all the rumination playing like a broken record.
But the mother’s brain though messy is a beautiful thing— because there is nothing like it. It takes on the role of the keeper of all things children because no one cares about them more than us.
It’s our burden to take because each worry, each thought we produce, is created out of unconditional love for our children–
The kind that only a mother knows.
This post originally appeared on the author’s Facebook page.