“What’s the hardest part of being a mom?”
‘Couple days ago, my friend asked me “What’s the hardest thing about being a mom?” She’s 21 with no kids but dreams of having some one day. My answer wasn’t what she expected. I said, “The hardest part is worrying…worrying about if they’re safe, about CREEPERS. I worry all the time!” She continued, “Worrying? Is it like when you’re apart?” I told her that me and the girls are 99.9% of the time never apart. I worry in general.
I think everyone expects a mother’s response to a question like that to be something like, “The late nights and crying duet is the hardest part.” I know some women complain of no social life. Sorry, not sorry…I’m not concerned about a social life, my girls are more important than drinks at some club– I don’t even drink. I don’t need a “break” from my mothering duties. I don’t mind late nights because one day I’ll long for them. I don’t mind them crying over me giving them juice instead of milk because I’m not ready for them to be crying over a boy.
My daughters are my world…my life. They’ve given me so much more purpose. I want to give them everything they deserve, and that includes thinking about them now and forever. I don’t just worry about their safety– I worry about the people they’ll become…the impact they’ll have on the world. I know, wondering if my 1year-olds will end world hunger and create peace among all nations is a bit much. I actually care about the type of humans that leave my home.
I worry a whole lot! It keeps me up at night sometimes. Tonight as I gave my girls a bath and watched them splash and kick their feet trying to make bubbles, I worried. I worried that one day something as simple as a bath won’t make their day. I worried that life won’t bring them bath-time-like-joy. Even in such a precious moment, where my kids were having the time of their lives, I worried. I couldn’t help it.
I have fears beyond my control. My mother was a worrier too. She saved us from potential sexual abuse…abuse that was happening to classmates who begged my to sleep over. My mother never let me and my siblings sleep over to just anyone’s house. In my entire youth I’ve only ever slept by three homes: My grandparents’, my cousin’s(my age), and my mother female friend who had four kids of her own(about 2-3 times that my mother wasn’t present.) I thought she was controlling and killing my childhood but her worrying saved me. Her worrying stopped me from having sex at a young age and being a teen mom like her. Her worrying stop me from running the streets like the other girls, my age, living in the same projects I did. I wondered why she worried to such an extent but then I became a mom and I’m far more paranoid than she ever was. Lol!
Worrying is the hardest part of being a mother. It’s not money, it’s not the crying, it’s not even the tantrums thrown in public. I don’t know what other mothers might say but that’s how I feel. It’s not going to change no matter how old they become either. Like always guys ((Hugs & Love))
I’m a mother of three. I’ve been writing for six years both for myself and for different companies. I write content about many different topics but mostly about motherhood, faith, and life.
