I’m not having fun

The shame we carry in motherhood

Motherhood Minute shares stories of mental health, motherhood, and the complexity of it all. Scroll down for details on the 2025 Mental Health and Motherhood Summit and recommended reads from other writers this week.

Thank you for being here and sharing this labor of love ❤️

Are you having any fun?

My husband asked me if we could talk and I could see the hesitation in his face, hear the emotion in his low tone. Can we talk without you getting too upset?

I can try, I said, but I couldn’t look at his face, while he explained to me his concerns.

I’ve been distant. Stressed. Pushing everyone away, literally and figuratively. He never sees me play with Eliza and every interaction seems to have a reaction from me that conveys agitation.

I never see you playing together. Do you have any fun together, when I’m not around?

In the past few weeks, nothing has been fun. My sweet child has gone through a rapid growth spurt — demanding vegan chocolate protein shakes and tv like a mini WWE wrestler in the making. There are not enough hours in the day to satisfy her need to be outside or running or doing. If Dad is not around to burn the energy than she is left with a burnt-out mom, barely present in the room.

We have done fun things together but am I having fun with her? No, I don’t think so.

Typically we keep a busy weekend of walking through parks or shops and visiting family, but the past two weeks have felt like hell.

I’ve become the Enforcer. If you choose to act like a baby, kicking and screaming, then we are staying home. Or I carry here out of location A to location B while dodging her blows.

I have become the Regulator, holding her close while she takes 20 minutes to calm down and we both fall asleep exhausted, as if she was a newborn again and not a 4 year old. Does her sudden behavior shift reflect on me being a “bad” mom or is this not about me at all?

I have shame that I am not having fun.

I was going to write guilt, but the dictionary associates that with crime. Shame is what I carry in my motherhood with the weight of all the bags I’m carrying in and out of the house to preschool and work. Shame is the slushy mix of regret, dishonor, and self-criticism.

I appreciate transparency in how difficult life can be so here is my referenced list.

I am very good at identifying causes for my stress but not very good at moving beyond the organization and planning stages because that would require shame taking a backseat. Shame is a chronic disease that can sometimes be forgotten or turn into a debilitating flare up.

This week I had a good flare up, both inflammatory in my body and in the realm of shame.

After two months of not having my daughter do Saturday gymnastics, I decided to re-enroll her for the only class available, which is Thursdays at 4:30 pm. (Thank God for a job that is extremely flexible and allows me to work where and when I need to work.) At the top of the gymnasium staircase I met Shame’s sibling, Guilt.

You have to commit to twice a week for this class. She completed all the skills in her last group, and we’ve moved her into the advanced group for the next age up. This is to prepare them to be team ready by six. We would have explained that to you, but you stopped coming.

I didn’t try to explain the weeks of work stress, trying to buy a home, the heavy weight of expectations I’m placing upon myself, or the recent grief I have had this past week. I just took a deep breath and saw my daughter removing her shoes, excited to go back into the disciplined fitness hour I could not provide her at home.

While she was being challenged downstairs in an environment that felt like bootcamp, I was upstairs writing down all the things I was carrying.

She is so small compared to kids her own age, which is unsurprising since I was also a good foot shorter than my peers in childhood. Where I had internalized everything and shrunk my joy and curiosity back into a petite frame, Eliza was blooming.

I watched as she reached for a bar on her tip-toes, pulled over into a forward flip, and fell face down on the mat. She did it three more times without stopping or complaint. Face to floor, face to floor.

My list sat in my lap as she dived into foam pit.

Things stressing me:
» not finding joy

Things I’ve read lately

• SEVEN things that helped

  Ruhie Vaidya
  during the raw and intense early stages of grief

• How To Sit With An Emotion by

  Amber Groomes,Ph.D. (she/her)

• Redefining Slow Living Beyond the Rural Aesthetic by

  Elizabeth Hannam

• In-depth review of the postpartum care crisis in America by

  Susan Landers, MD

Mental Health & Motherhood Summit

The Mental Health & Motherhood Summit is a virtual event designed to connect mothers with mental health resources, offering a low-barrier approach that deeply values community and connection. It is 100% volunteer driven by mothers who care about building up awareness and support for other mothers.

A reminder that you can be an advocate for this event by sharing and applying to be a speaker. See more at this link.

• Speaker applications are due by May 1, 2025

• Sponsorship information will be available later in May

• Early bird tickets will be available in June
  

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