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SALT LAKE CITY — The other day while scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, I saw a post by a friend who had written something along the lines that perhaps she was not cut out to be a mom. She being one of the mothers I look up to — one who has some of the best-behaved children I have ever seen, and who is always smiling and upbeat — I was a little shocked by her post.
I found myself commenting and doing my best to make her feel better. Little did I know, it would only be a matter of a few days until it would be my turn to have my own moment of uncertainty, or “mommy meltdown,” as I call them.
Call it hormones, lack of sleep — whatever. Meltdowns happen to all of us; they happen to the new moms who are just trying to figure it all out, and they happen to “seasoned” moms who are still trying to get the hang of it. I just so happen to be in the middle of those two groups, and yes, I have meltdowns too.
Call it hormones, lack of sleep — whatever. Meltdowns happen to all of us; they happen to the new moms who are just trying to figure it all out, and they happen to "seasoned" moms who are still trying to get the hang of it.
Of course, if you were to ask me at the very beginning of said “meltdown” if I was having a meltdown, I would have emphatically denied it. In my mind, all that I was saying was completely justifiable. No, I wasn't ranting and raving and screaming and fussing — or at least I didn't think I was. In my mind I was (passionately) expressing my concerns about work, money, time, kids … time … money. And who has the good fortune to be the recipient of my (somewhat) thought-through declaration? You guessed it: my wonderful, caring husband.
At the beginning of my manifesto, I had a point — or at least I thought I did. In hindsight, I should have thought my words through first, instead of hoping that my meandering through (thoughtless) sentence after (thoughtless) sentence would eventually get me to my intended outcome — which was yet to be determined.
My sweet husband was left standing there, wondering what it was that I needed from him. When he gave me advice, I didn't want it; when he sat there saying nothing, I asked why he wasn't responding. The poor guy just couldn't win. Yet, I kept going … until I couldn't go anymore.
Just like a young child who after throwing a fit eventually cries himself to sleep, or at least to the point of being able to be consoled, I had worn myself out. And after all of that, what was it that I wanted most? I wanted a hug and to hear the words, “I love you, and it's going to be all right.”
After that hug and words of encouragement, I felt like I could face the world again. I felt like I had come out from under the dark clouds and into the sun. Everything was going to be all right.
As I thought about this experience and how it relates to other things in this world, it dawned on me that our very earth (or at least Utah) goes through this same type of thing: Each and every winter, our earth is blanketed with snow and ice, covering up all that lies beneath it. It covers up beauty and, yes, even imperfections.
Eventually there comes a point when the ice cracks and begins to melt. At first what is exposed may not be all that pretty: there is mud and muck, leftover garbage from before, and other imperfections. But after the meltdown and a little tender love and care, the beauty to behold is unmatched. Spring is here, and it will all be all right.
The next time you find yourself having a “mommy meltdown,” be assured that you are not alone, that this soon shall pass, and everything will be all right.
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*Arianne Brown is a graduate from Southern Utah University, mother to five young kids and an avid runner. Contact her at ariannebrown1@gmail.com, follow her on twitter @arimom5, or check out her blog at runariran.wordpress.com.**
