I have decided that being a full-time mommy, a wife and trying to maintain a blog and write a novel is exhausting. That's just the plain truth. I am happy to do all of it, I will continue to make strides to do all of these tasks well. Just let it be known that I am exhausted!! I took a short nap today but also got caught up on housework. Laundry, running the dishwasher, making dinner, going to church.
This is where my insanity starts to creep in, though. The house is totally silent. The kids and husband are sleeping soundly. My body is sore from being abused by my trainer yesterday. I have a touch of a headache. We have a full day tomorrow that includes getting everyone to school and then Occupational Therapy for Jeremy after school.
It would make the most sense to just give up and go to sleep. That would probably be the most life-affirming action to take, I'll admit it.
The problem is that I never, ever get to enjoy the house like this. If anyone is awake, I am the subject of intense scrutiny. I am hunted down like a prized possession. I am tracked like an escaped prisoner. I am treated like some head honcho at a press conference--peppered endlessly by inane and redundant questions.
That is exhausting. More than laundry, which seems to never end, or trying to clothe three people and get somewhere on time, being this popular is exhausting.
It's funny that when moms start to complain on this or reflect on their stresses, two things happen. First, the complainant feels the need to make sure everyone knows she loves her kids.
Duh.
It should be plain to anyone hearing the complaints that we love our kids. If we didn't, there would be no complaints. I don't think our kids would bug us so darn much if we didn't love them so much. If being asked the same question a million times a day didn't cause a rise in our blood pressure, it would mean we were able to tune our kids out. I've yet to meet a mom who can do that. Or kids who will allow it.
The other constant is the response the complainant receive from moms who have older kids. They get a dreamy look in their eyes and tell us, "this too shall pass," or "cherish these days because pretty soon they won't want anything to do with you." These statements are as useless as ice skates at the beach. We understand that time is temporal. We are not looking for platitudes. We are looking for sympathy, for someone with whom to share a glass of wine (if that's your thing) or with whom to escape for a cup of coffee.
I am not going to survive this phase of my child's lives if I am only focusing on when it's going to be over. I have fought long and hard to convince my husband that when I vent to him, I'm not necessarily looking for a solution. I don't know that I can ever stop being this popular. I know it's different for different kids, too. I have been intensely close to my parents my entire life. Really, it's true. I had one person at my Sweet 16 party. One. It's a little sad but it speaks to the fact that the people to whom I was closest were my parents.
I'm not saying my kids will be like that, maybe they won't. But it's going to be a different set of annoyances to navigate. I don't know what they are yet, but I'm sure I'll hear about them after this post!
I don't know that one phase of motherhood is more or less exhausting, but the consensus is pretty universal that the one in which I currently find myself is in the top 1%. There are no breaks. The kids can't do very much for themselves. I am still changing diapers, I have to make all their meals (I've heard it told that some children can get themselves breakfast in the morning), I have to be on top of them at all times when out of the house.
I say all of this to say that for me, it's a no-brainer to stay up late in the quiet house. I am an extrovert but even the most outgoing person needs time to recharge their batteries.
I always pay for this bad habit in the morning, but even so it is deliciously worth it.
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