Fucking Mom Guilt.

Mom guilt is strong right now, guys. I just realized today how bad it’s affecting me. Like we all have mom guilt, but this is ridiculous. I’ve spent the last three months with the kids 24/7, and the Stockholm is so bad I feel anxious about being away from there. There was discussion with a friend about a girls trip for a long weekend- like we haven’t even fucking discussed a date yet and I already feel panicky at the thought of being without them! Is this how a host feels at the prospect of losing it’s parasite? It’s bullshit, is what it is.

I had two days this week where I was working my full time job all day one day, and my business all day the next day. I ended up standing in my office window crying to my husband on the phone about how I felt guilty that my new business was taking me away from the kids. I felt so selfish- like no one made me start my own business. That was all me. It’s not the kid’s fault that I’m busy with multiple things that take me away from hanging out with them. Anyone driving by that window probably thought I was a psychopath.

When did it not become ok for moms to want something for themselves? I have blogged about this before- we can’t show up for our kids unless we show up for ourselves, too. I asked Biggie later that day if he understood why I started my own business. He said “so we can have money to do more fun things,” because he knows I’m saving for a family vacation next year. I told him I’m also doing this for me, because I need something for myself.

I have big dreams for my business. For the things it can let us achieve as a family, but mostly what it can let me achieve for myself. I want to start a Podcast, I want to see this blog keep growing like it has. I want to be a successful entrepreneur. I think Biggie gets it, because he wanted me to get him some of the kid’s products and offered to pay for it out of his piggy bank. I need to dwell on that fact, and realize he is watching and is supporting me in his own little way. It means more to me than he realizes.

And I’m going to take that girls trip. Even if I cry when I leave the boys. Because I need to take care of me to take care of them. What will I do without anyone crawling up my vagina and calling my name a billion times? Not being a snack bitch for a day?! The possibilities are endless!

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