Burnt Pancakes

via Daily Prompt: Invisible

I set about my morning like any other, walking around half asleep, stumbling like a zombie through the house. Grab baby. Nurse baby. Shush toddler. Make coffee.

NEED COFFEE.

We had somewhere to be. Don’t we always have somewhere to be? I used to never be late – I absolutely despise being late. Now I’m lucky if I’m on time. I decided this morning though I was making pancakes. Weight Watchers friendly, kid approved pancakes. Start with making some for the baby. While I cut his up, I start making some for G. While I’m cutting his up, start mine. Except something he does distracts me and I forgot to flip mine. Burnt. Now he’s trying to pour more syrup. Run to grab the syrup. Burn the other side too.

BURNT PANCAKES. ugh. Just mine though. Because despite the fact that I told him I was trying to cook and “please, just eat your breakfast, we need to leave,” he did everything but just eat his pancakes.

I feel like that’s kind of a great description for what my life is during this stage. Burnt pancakes. I’m always so busy being mom and wife, that I forget about myself. And while the pancakes I made were still edible, they definitely weren’t the way they should have been. That’s how I feel. I feel like I’m cruising through this part of life doing all the things everyone else needs me to but forgetting to help myself along the way. And what’s left is a burnt out mama and wife with the individual lost somewhere. Just a burnt pancake of my former self.

I know my family loves me. And my pancakes. But sometimes being loved for more than the things you do for a person is what you really crave in life. That and chocolate. And coffee. I’ve started to try to do more for myself but what I’ve realized is that the only way that my family is going to see me for more than just wife and mom is to do things with them that I LOVE. Go to the theater or the art museum. So that’s my plan going forward. The only way that I won’t be invisible to them as an individual is to make them experience things I LOVE as an individual. No coffee for the kids though. They’re hyper enough as it is.

Author: Brixanne

mom, step mom, wife... all the $#!+ they don't tell you about motherhood View all posts by Brixanne