Lockdown with children
I'm not just a mother, damn it!
© Marie Stadler
Our author is tired. She is mother. Just mother. Always just mother. And that 24/7.
by Marie Stadler
I'm a mom, probably a passable one. Sometimes the best, sometimes the meanest in the world, so standard, I would say. But of course that's not all that makes me special. Actually, I'm also a friend, a colleague, a wife, an ambitious person, a concert goer, a person who likes to discuss, someone who sometimes cracks a little too mean jokes and someone who laughs particularly loudly at parties. I am my stories that I tell and the advice that I give. I am the tears I dare to cry in front of my friends and the megalomania that sets in after two glasses of Merlot. When I am all of that, I don't feel a bit perfect, but I feel whole and whole. Then I just feel like ME.
Lockdown with children
Since March there has been a little problem: I am MOTHER. That’s it. All the other puzzle pieces are in front of me and usually no longer find a suitable place. No parties, no friends, no husband dates in the restaurant because there is no babysitter (and certainly no restaurant), the children always at home instead of with friends, on the football field, with grandma and grandpa or at school. The husband's nerves and mine: scattered somewhere on the floor between Lego bricks and the crumpled up maths additional tasks. First I tried very hard to keep feeling healthy, drank wine online with friends, organized a one-woman disco while cleaning, and watched concerts with the man on Netflix. But it didn't really work, my mood wandered step by step into the basement and basement mood makes me sluggish.
"Mamaaaaaaaa"
Yes, I can be criticized for not trying to keep all the facets of myself together. Maybe I would do it myself if I wasn't so tired. About the fact that in lockdown a “Mamaaaaaa!” Lurks everywhere and around the clock. In the evening when you cook a nice menu for two and then the children lie next to you on the sofa because of their nightmares. In the morning at 6 o'clock when a first grader joins the yoga exercises and instead of dog and sun salutation wants to learn the T-Rex and the highly popular yoga pop pop Very relaxing. Not. In the morning, when I'm no longer negotiating about my salary or customers, but instead about the maximum acceptable amount of Nutella on a wholemeal toast and court sessions on the topic of "Who cut first?" lead even though there are no witnesses or evidence. The "Mamaaaaa!" lurks really anytime and anywhere. You're not even safe in the toilet. "But this time he hit REAL first !!!!" And that's really a reason to drum on the bathroom door …
The puzzle pieces are not broken
What comforts me a little: everything is still there. A broken puzzle is actually never really broken, it is only broken down into individual parts that are not currently needed. It just takes an effort to put it back together again. Unfortunately, tired people don't do puzzles. But one day, friends of the night, that's where I'll start. I put it back together piece by piece, I could do that with my eyes closed. I still know exactly what this first-person puzzle looks like and where each piece belongs. It's not always nice to see the big picture, but it's something whole. I'm sure that a few parts have also been added that will round off the picture in the end. There is the piece of the puzzle of clarity that is needed to motivate children to do their homework on lockdown day 29 and this great gratitude that my husband and I have developed for each other. There are all the memories of our creative ideas that we had fun with as a family and the certainty that we can do anything together. If you know that you are not really broken, but that everything that is missing is just parts that just have to be put back together, then you can endure a lot. I think even the next, the next and the next "Mamaaaaaaaaa!" …
This article originally appeared on Eltern.de.