What Did Batman Teach Me About Midlife Crisis?

I have been schlumping around the house (yes, mostly in PJs or yoga pants) for the past seven years, completing the endless cycle of work for my family: cook, clean, feed, sleep, repeat. Lately though, I haven't been doing any of it. A clothing pile in the laundry room rivals the recent snow mountain plowed along our driveway, the clutter and dust bunnies are mustering for what looks like a hostile takeover. And the kids have already rebelled. Every day Maisey asks what "disgusting thing" I'm going to serve for dinner, and homework has escalated from whiny drama to a full on battle of will and wits to get any of it done.

With all of the days snowed in with two kids, I resorted to reading inspirational quotes to try to boost my spirits and get through the days. You know the ones, they talk about being grateful for what you have blah blah, and contentment in who you are yada yada, but I can't even tell you who I am--I lost my identity a few years ago to motherhood. And don't get me started on the inspirational quotes about my journey. I'm not going anywhere.

My husband keeps telling me to think about what I want to do when our youngest starts kindergarten next year. I think about it all the time. All I do anymore is think. I wish my husband would have said yes to the opportunity to live in Rome for a year, or in the Netherlands this summer. Being a stay at home mom abroad sounds so much more fun. I'm starting to feel guilty for not being able to count my blessings like all the Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest posts tell me I should.

I'm working on that though. Really.

I watched Batman Begins again a few weeks ago (one of my favorite movies), and there was a scene where Bruce Wayne tells Rachel Dawes there's more to him inside than what she sees. I could totally relate--him a billionaire superhero and me a middle-aged stay-at-home mom--because the way I see it, he and I were both repressing parts of ourselves to fit into the expectations that others held about who we are. Bruce reinforced my belief that who I am is important, even if you have to dig through mounds of Monster High dolls and Legos to find me. Even if it takes a few unintelligible or awkward responses to questions to shake off the cobwebs before my brain functions on an intellectual adult level. I'm more than the sum of my chores: the laundry, cooking, cleaning, the endless and often thankless daily cycle of doing for the kids, for my husband. Thank you Batman. I am more than that.

Or so I thought.

So then Rachel tells Bruce Wayne, "it's not who we are underneath, it's what we do that defines us." So Batman goes off and saves Gotham, proving who he is by what he does, and I still cook and clean and schlump around the house after the kids.

After that movie, I kept wondering if I was just disappointed and unsatisfied with my life, because I seemed to be the only one on social media who isn't feeling blessed or grateful for anything. Every day seems to test my patience and my ability to withstand the mundane, and so turning again to the internet for solace, I read a few articles about a woman's midlife crisis. I hate to admit it, because there is a vain part of me that will be eternally 18, but I read this article. It hit the nail on the head for me. It was almost as if she was writing about me.

I began reading more articles on a woman's midlife crisis, like this and this, that seemed to bear me up briefly.

And then I realized something. I've realized that Rachel Dawes doesn't get the whole picture (how could she, she's young). It isn't just what we do that defines us. Who we are defines us, because who we are underneath drives what we do. So, like Batman, I'm doing it anyway. Maybe very few people see who I really am, but I'm hoping my actions speak volumes to those I love. Even when I'm not feeling so super.