You guys...I'm tired.
Not just regular "I need a pot of coffee to get anything done" tired. I'm more "I hate everyone and everything and want to run away to Mexico by myself" tired. My days have been bleeding together lately. I don't feel like I get any sleep. It feels like I lay down in my bed for my first minute really ALONE for the entire day, and then I blink and it's already the next day and the kids are yelling and peeing all over everything and running late and missing the bus and forgetting their snack that I PUT IN THEIR HAND before they walk out the damn door and I AM SO OVER THIS WHY DID I CHOOSE TO BE A MOM????
There is no break, and I'm not being all whiney or complain-ey. It's a fact. Even if you happen to find yourself alone in a room somewhere, or off on a treasured trip to the gas station where you can listen to your radio as loud as you want and pretend you are that attractive, free teenage version of yourself again, you are still on call. Literally. There is a good chance your phone will ring and you will have to handle an issue from 5 miles away. Or turn around and go home. There is no "me time" when you have kids. It is all about them, all the time. That is what we sign up for when we take on this job. The weekends are no longer time to unwind from work...they become 48 hours of children running around the house, breaking things and making messes and needing something done for them or given to them or answered for them every 5 minutes. They are for having tiny hands ALWAYS clinging to your shirt because your newborn has random separation anxiety (WTF??!!) and refuses to be put down. They are for trying to potty train your 3 year-old for WEEKS AND WEEKS and still having to change poop diapers. And they are for trying desperately to find some sort of sanity while parenting a middle-schooler.
"ME time" becomes "THEIR time."
The things that I have been doing to keep from diving off a cliff or changing my name and crossing the Canadian border vary from day to day. Some days, I just let them trash the damn house. I literally sit on the couch and let them run around to their heart's content and try to block out the sound that reminds me of some sort of frat party being thrown by small children. Some days, I have them do crafts with me. That always depends on my level of patience at the moment (it needs to be higher than average) and usually ends after 45 minutes because someone stormed off crying because they "aren't as good as me."
Seriously?? I've been doing this 3 decades longer than you have!
Sometimes I have to let my clingy little orangutan cry for a solid 10 minutes while I make dinner, because there are other people in the house who need to eat.
I'd like to think I get some bonus points for the fact that:
So, you know, self compassion. Be kind, you must. (3 is on a Star Wars kick at the moment...)
Don't judge other people and don't judge yourself. Keep doing what you can to make it through the days, and make sure your kids know that you love them. Usually, just keeping them alive will be proof enough.
You're doing good, Mom. You'll be okay.
Mother and wife by day, psych RN by night. So many different ways to view life. I try to take everything in and be very slow to judge.