A Whole New War...

So we've all heard about the mommy wars. Breastfeeding vs. bottle, natural birth vs. epidural, attachment parenting vs. sanity.. but what about the war on yourself? Since I became a mother 4, now almost 5, years ago, I have changed a lot. Most of these changes have been positive, my life is on a completely different track and I'm happier than I could have hoped for over all. But there are days that I would give nearly anything to have a bit of my old self back.

I would love to wear makeup again on a regular basis, get dressed every morning and have something to do involving other adults. I would love to go out without having to find a sitter, clean the house so said sitter can come over without making me feel mortified, clean the kids for the same reason, watch the clock because the sitter can't stay too late, and worry the entire time about who might be barfing on who and what on earth The Oldest might be telling the sitter that she might actually understand or even worse, believe. I would love to simply have a glass of water without a hint of baby hands in it. I would love to go to the bathroom alone. Most of all though, I would love to not feel guilty about wanting these things in the first place.

For years now I have been struggling to find the balance to take care of myself enough to be able to take the best care of my kids that I can. Every time I got pregnant I wondered how the stress and neglect I had for myself would affect the next generation with every other kid I had to take care of already. No, most of my kids weren't planned, but we weren't hurting for having another either.

This all brings me to the latest happenings in our saga.. I missed my Indian food cooking class. I completely forgot all about it until nearly a week after. The Oldest, however, has not missed a single karate class. I told myself I would just do this one night class in the midst of the several classes The Girls were taking, just to do something for myself, and I couldn't even manage that. I thought that if I ever had a c-section I at least would finally be forced to take a break, but here I am, cleaning house and picking up kids as early as 3 weeks after the surgery. My response to The Husband when he tells me to stop, that I'm going to seriously hurt myself, is that if I don't do it, no one will, and it NEEDS to get done.

But the fact is, I want to do it. I'm pretty sure it's not healthy on both a mental and physical level, but it's what I want when I really dig down deep. So yes, I know I need to separate myself from my children, because when they start to branch out and make their mistakes while living their lives I'm going to need that buffer space as much as they are. I realize this. But for now, I'll settle with worrying about The Baby every 5 minutes while I'm out with my girlfriends tonight. Call it the worst of both worlds?