I am burned out. I’m exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically. It seems like I have been going non-stop for weeks with the kids. I know this is part of the deal with being a mom but there are days where it just catches up with me and today is that day. I’m at the point where I either need to have a good cry or just say “screw it” to everything that comes my way. I’m going with “screw it”.
Last week was the dreaded spring break week. I hate spring break! Of course we can never go anywhere because Kevin’s spring break is two weeks before the kids’. So I am home with 3 kids who seem to think that spring break means they get to do whatever they want, whenever they want. Which inevitably means they will argue. Over everything. Who brushes their teeth first, who lets the dog out to go potty, who picks the movie they are going to watch, who gets to give Jackson a toy, whose cup has more water in it, who gets to get the mail, who touched a toy first. You get the idea. An hour of this arguing is annoying. A day of this arguing is infuriating. 7 freaking days of this is enough to warrant self admittance to a psychiatric ward. The second day of spring break Sylvia had to go the dentist in the afternoon. As I was checking her in the receptionist said “How are you today?” I said “It is the second day of spring break.” She put her pen down, looked at me and said “How are you doing?” I said “I wish I liked the taste of alcohol so I could drink.” She laughed and said she knew how I felt. Her kids were grown, but she had been there. At least there is a sense of camaraderie amongst us moms.
The worst part about being burnt out is that I lose all patience, and I don’t have a lot as it is. I get tired of listening to the kids, I get snappy with them, I begin feeling detached from them. I hate that about myself. My light switch just goes off and I am too tired to turn it back on. Yesterday, the first day back to school the kids were in the bathroom arguing over who got to put toothpaste on their toothbrush first. I heard them and was just waiting for the referee call. Sure enough Sylvia came out and started to complain and I just snapped back and said “Sylvia, for 7 long days I have had to listen to you two argue over everything. I’m done. I’m sick and tired of the arguing. You two figure it out. I don’t care anymore.” She looked deflated and went back to the bathroom. I thought “there goes my mom of the year award and I couldn’t care less! I’m sick of being a mom.” I really am. I don’t feel motherly or loving or that I even want to be anymore. I just want peace and quiet and to sit and read a book that isn’t about the brain, behavior problems, or how to be a good parent. I want to be on a beach, sipping lemonade, sitting in the warm sun, listening to the waves and reading some mindless novel about someone else’s life. For a whole day! With no one calling my name, no one needing to be fed, or diapers to change, or errands to run, or bills to pay, or appointments to go to. Sadly there is no beach on this side of the state. However, tomorrow night I am headed to Seattle for a couple of days for the Developmental Disabilities Board of Directors meeting. I will have two nights in a hotel room and two days of being around adults, learning new things. It sounds heavenly and I am grateful for the break. Hopefully my batteries will be recharged and I won’t be the bitchy mom anymore. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
As I sit here and write this post I have to be honest and say I feel guilt for writing it. I’m bitching about how I am sick of my life and tired. But right now my friend Vicki, who is a special mama like me, is lying in the hospital fighting for her life. So is her little boy. Her little boy had to have major surgery last week. As he was trying to heal and fight to get better in the ICU, Vicki had a massive seizure that landed her in the ICU. It took a few days (scary days) but she is breathing on her own and they moved her out of ICU yesterday. She is on the long road to recovery, as is her boy. When you have kids like we do, you develop a unique bond because we just get each other. We know what our lives are like. We know what it is to grieve over a child. We understand the special joy our children give us. It’s a different kind of friendship, one that I am so thankful for. Having a friend like Vicki is a gift that Jackson gave me. And she is a gift of friendship to me. I can’t wait for the day when I can take her to lunch and just tell her that. Keep fighting Vicki! You got this Mama! I love you girl!
In honor of Vicki and in the spirit of my complaining post, I leave with this quote by Helen Keller “The world is full of suffering; it is also full of overcoming it.”