I'm suffering the hangover effects of being a Mother. A Mother who has had to do this alone for far too long, it seems.The weather outside matches how I feel inside this morning. It's dark and crumby out there. Rainy and windy.
I'm on my second cup of coffee, but I'm afraid it won't do it's trick today.
Yesterday afternoon, Baby Ty awoke from his nap with a bad case of the crankies. He had a fever, and was feeling miserable. Everything that I did, from then on, involved lugging around an extra 25 lbs of crying, writhing, inconsolable baby.
The older kids arrived home from school, and Big Son had the most horrendous attitude. He's been testing boundaries with me lately, and yesterday I had neither the patience or stamina to deal with him. The more he pushed, the angrier I became.
Meanwhile, the not-so-little puppy had a bad case of the 'can't shut up' barks, with a side of let me chew everything in sight.
So that's how it went. I felt like I was drowning. I could feel myself starting to lose my grip. And then one last piece of attitude from Big Son, and I reached the boiling point. I sent him to his room, cancelled the sleepover at my sister's and sent Daughter instead, and I just had a Major Mommy Meltdown.
I am only one person. I do not have the patience of a Saint. I have real-life patience. The kind that can only take so much.
I wanted to quit. I am a stay-at-home Mother, and last night, I wanted to quit my job. When I told Hubby he said that wasn't an option. Um...I realize that, but it doesn't mean I wasn't fantasizing about walking away.
I guess that secures this year's title of Mother Of The Year, again this year, huh?
I the past year I have done my best, but I am nearing the breaking point. I am ready for a break. I absolutely need a break.
The baby, who must be teething, woke up at 3:00am, and we have not gone back to bed yet. He still has a fever, and is still attached to my hip. It's not his fault, he's sick. And I am comforting him the best that I can.
All I want to do is go to bed. I'm so tired that it hurts. And I know that it will be at least another 15 hours until I hit the bed, unless I sneak in a nap when the baby goes down.
It's moments like these that I resent Hubby being away. When he was leaving to go away, I felt so bad for him. I thought it was a huge sacrifice for him to leave his family to build us a better future. I thought that surely his burden was so much greater than mine. And now, he's all settled in, he's got his own routine. And me? Well, I find myself angry sometimes. Does he ever have to cook and clean, and plan showers hours in advance? Ever have to go EVERYWHERE dragging three extra, and usually unwilling little people with him?
I know it's not easy for him to be away. And I appreciate his sacrifice for us.
I'm just a stay-at-home Mother, with a sick kid, a preteen full of attitude, and an eight year old that never stops talking. I really don't have anything to complain about, really. I'm just tired and I need a break.
Thanks for checking in to my ranting today.
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