I’m Hiding Right There, Under The Pile of Laundry

This month’s Mama Story is from Parrish Wilson, who has made an award-winning career out of writing from the heart and teaching others to do the same. Parrish’s writing is always touching, inspiring, and brutally honest. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I have!

You can sign up for the entire series of Mama Stories here.


 

It’s been a long time since I’ve written about motherhood.

Funny because writing is the self-care activity I used to survive motherhood a year ago.

I wrote to find my way through postpartum depression.

My way through lack of direction, lost passion, identity confusion.

 

Because just discovering one’s identity as a mother is a big enough task to take up all your time.

 

Let alone the laundry…

The diapers…

The meals…

The toys…

The puzzles…

The books…

The outings…

The groceries…

Every little thing that needs to be done.

It just doesn’t stop.

 

Here I am four and a half years into motherhood with two kids and I still barely know who I am.

 

Just this morning I asked my husband “Really, is this what we’re going to do for the rest of our lives? Be overwhelmed, stressed out? Where did the fun go? Where did I go?”

I feel so lost.

There’s no spontaneity.

My jokes targets four year old humor.

 

I feel like my old full, beautiful, energetic and passionate experience of life is… not gone, but fragmented.

 

It does show up… occasionally.

It shows up on date nights when we realize why we chose this crazy life together.

We laugh. We connect. We rekindle.

It shows up in my business a lot (likely why I’m a bit of a workaholic).

My business is one place that I get to be me and be appreciated for it.

I get feedback.

People thanking me, saying great job, or wow you make this so much easier.

I get all of that verbal feedback and it makes me feel appreciated.

 

I also have moments of joy, of course, with my children.

 

Those amazing moments when nobody’s crying and nobody’s fighting.

Nobody’s tired or hungry, too hot or too cold.

The moments when we are actually IN THE MOMENT.

I live for those moments.

And the reality is I don’t even need them to be more frequent because my family is pretty happy.

We play.

We laugh.

We enjoy each other.

 

What I do need is less of everything else.

 

I want to spend less time every day thinking about dinner.

And less time every week tidying my house.

I want more ease and simplicity.

It’s that ease and simplicity in my life pre-kids that created the space for adventure, for relaxation, for being in the present moment.

When I wasn’t caught up in every moment thinking about all the things that needed to be done I had the freedom to BE.

I don’t really know how the fuck to make that happen but I guess that’s really what I need.

 

I need less to do so I have more time to be.

 

Imagine that.

Take a big deep breath right now.

And now imagine what it would feel like to not have a to-do list breathing down your neck.

Imagine how wonderful it would be to simply be present.

To be in that moment of puzzle making, that moment of book reading, that moment of Lego building.

 

If I had less to do and more time to be, I am quite certain I would naturally become more me.

 

Because I am still here.

I may be covered in peanut butter and toddler slobber but I AM STILL HERE.

The me that has always been is underneath all the to-do’s.

I know can resurface if I take the time to be.


Parrish Wilson is a West Coast mama to two little boys. You can usually find her family outside – exploring, gardening, hiking and camping. The birth of her first son pushed Parrish to take the leap into entrepreneurship. She knew she could never tell him to follow his dreams if she hadn’t followed hers. She now runs her own business as a Writing Coach, Content Strategy & Speaker for business owners that want to share their stories and inspiration online. You can learn more about her at parrishwilson.com

Headshot 2015

 

Want more resources about postpartum support? Check out Chapters 7 & 8 of The Expecting Entrepreneur.