We're taking on board this mum's thoughts about reaching the end of her rope
We're our own worst critics, and when it comes to motherhood, we're exceptionally hard on ourselves.
But sometimes we just can't help it; certain things get the better of us, like that lie-in we so desperately want but cannot have due to our mum duties.
It doesn't stop us wishing for these things though, and with each day that passes you can often feel like another piece of you has fallen away or died.
Mary Katherine Backstrom knows this sentiment all too well, as the mum-of-two finds herself being slowly chipped away day by day.
"Every day I'm a mother, a piece of me dies."
"My son is in his high chair and I’m cleaning the floor and dishes. His arm magically transforms into a windshield wiper against the tray. Waffle and oranges fly across the room. Rising up inside of me is a piece of my heart that is angry and impatient."
"And then I catch my son’s eyes, bright and bubbling with laughter, and that angry little piece of me dies," confirms Mary Katherine.
And it's not just at that moment either, it also happens when the mum-of-two is out shopping, desperately trying on clothes, joyfully remembering her body's 'skinnier' shape before having children.
"Then I remember that skinnier, more fashionable me. Whose dreams and hopes centred around the possibility of a life with children. And that bratty, self-deprecating piece of me dies."
The Mom Babble writer confirms that motherhood can be a strange journey, as it is life-giving and exhausting.
"It constantly exercises my faith, tests my patience, and stretches my heart. But, as a result, […] my heart is bigger. And although sometimes I still reach the end of my rope, my rope is getting longer."
Therefore, the mum-of-two has come to learn that with each passing day a little piece of her does in fact die, but she isn't about to mourn those losses because MK understands what she now has is much greater.
"My child is making me a better person every day. And then the piece of me that doubts I’m doing this 'mum thing' right… it dies, too. And I’m left with gratitude."
"And a floor covered in waffle bits."
Plenty of our floors are covered in waffle bits, but it's all part and parcel of the journey, which we too are grateful to be on.