As you may have noticed, it's been awhile. A month to be exact. Little to no inspiration to
write a blog post. I've been so busy I don't even know what day it is
anymore. I've thought about writing a few times about
how hectic my days are, about the poop Leo smeared all over the floor or
that the dog is actually my favorite thing to be around these days, but
I will spare you the details. I've never felt so smothered in my life.
Smothered by my kids, smothered by house work, smothered by trying to
catch my own breath. Feels like jumping off the highest diving board and
never actually hitting the water. I can't even form sentences most
days, I constantly hold my breath just so I don't breakdown and cry. I
don't mean to complain because let's face it, my life is REALLY good and
I am grateful for all of it. I just can't seem to feel rested or
motivated or feel like tomorrow is actually going to be an easy day for
me.
I really can't wrap my brain around it. Is it me? Is the the pressure I
put on myself to at least attempt to meet all my duties as a mother? Is
it my kids that can't ever get along? Is it teething? Is it a mental
leap? I actually don't even care. I'm tired of trying to figure out
"what's wrong" with everybody.
Do I buy two of everything just so the kids don't fight over it? Do I
punish Cohen or Leo? Do I let them watch TV all day? I say I don't care
but look at me, I'm still trying to figure it out.
I used to consider that when the kids we're in bed that was time to
myself. Now after two kids that doesn't exist. The house isn't cleaned
until they're all in bed, the dishes are still in the sink the next
morning and the laundry I did four days ago is still in the wash musty. I
hate that smell, it actually makes me want to burn all my laundry and
the washer and dryer.
I have 6 messages on my answering machine from the Mom's at Cohen's
preschool asking to have play dates. Consciously I say I will call them
tomorrow.
Consciously I still haven't. They're now a month old and I'm sure they think I'm a unreliable bitch.
Again, I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with me. Am I antisocial,
am I an introvert, do I just not want to have to separate my kids from
their nice kids because mine are terrors. I think all of the above, but
it still doesn't make me want to reply to messages.
People are genuinely interested in my kids and my life and they always
seem to ask me the same question "How are the kids". Well, do I lie? Do I
tell you the truth? Do I give you the same response I do every time?
Should I change the answer up? Truthfully I want to say, I'm ready to
put them in day care for a few days so I can appreciate their
personalities, then I would look like a complete failure.
I've told myself "try to find the good in your day". Sometimes good
doesn't exist. Some days nobodies home and I hit the pillow at night
thinking it's August and I'm still bitching.
My vocabulary consists of:
Stop it
Don't do that
Don't punch your brother
Go to your room
Go sit on the step
Time out
Stop crying
Say sorry
Come here
Eat your dinner
Wash your hands
Don't play with dog poop
Go to bed
Stop beating the shit out of one another
Share your toys
I'm a broken record. Every day. I wish Cohen was in
Kindergarten this year. It would be so quiet in my house. Obviously I
will still have to stop Leo from climbing on top of the counter and
playing with knives, but that's a normal day. Like really you couldn't
go for the spoon? I should rename my child Screech because all he does is cry, whine or screech.
I've heard some advice from family and friends saying "it gets easier". I'm really wondering if anyone could give me an ETA?
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