I’m torn
I read alot of blogs. Alot. I think there’s over 100 in my RSS reader last time I checked. Most of them I just scroll through unless something catches my eye, except for the crafty ones that have to do with family, kids and such. I’m in love with the ideal that they portray — happy little families who eat organically, spend their nights playing board games in an immaculate and organized house and mom still has time to whip out beautifully crafted projects every day.
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I think it all contributes to how shitty I’ve felt about myself lately. I always thought that being a stay at home mom would the the be-all-end-all, but it’s really just a façade for hell. The day I quit my job was the day I turned into everyone’s bitch. All day long people demand things from me:
- If they’re under 1 year demands are communicated in ear-shattering, heart-wrenching squalls.
- Between 2 and 18 demands are produced in the form of nerve-grinding whines at the most inoppurtune times.
- Over 18 and demands are best disguised as guilt or worded in such as way that they make me feel like a total failure for not anticipating the demand sooner.
I thought everything would be perfect and it’s not even close. There’s a least 10 loads of laundry stuffed on the couch that I have no intention of folding. My mom or Declan is more likely to fold it than Matt is. I’ve managed two dinners this week, burnt one and have no plans for anything tonight. Mom is wanting me to start feeding Rowan solid food but I know that just translates into more work for me because Matt has never fed Rowan once. I keep getting told that I’m not challenging Declan enough but I can barely keep the kids in dry pants and full bellies. To get time to do some sewing basically means that I put the babygate up in the kitchen and ignore everything. I’m so so slow that everything takes forever, If I rush stuff well… the quality goes down.
I have no friends, other than long distance or internet ones. I don’t know where I’m even going with this. I need a vacation, but I don’t think I could leave the kids. Nor do I want to, I just want to stop being the 24/7 mom for awhile. But there’s millions of moms in the world and they all seem to be fine. What’s wrong with me? I’m I just super lazy? Do I have to be willing to just shut my brain, hopes, wants and personality off for good (because heaven knows the older little boys get the more they demand)? What happened to Me? When did it become a requirement that I’m no longer considered a person, just because I have children? I feel like a servant and a poorly treated one at that.
Well, I’ve already sent a not so nice email to Matt so I guess I might as well post this too. I’m done wallowing, maybe.
I need to get my thyroid checked.
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Tags: Array, Babygate, Bellies, Bitch, Board Games, Declan, Dry Pants, Facade, Family Kids, Guilt, Intention, Last Time, Laundry, Nerve, Rss Reader, sewing, Solid Food, Squalls, Stay At Home, Stay At Home Mom, Vacat, Whines
Aw Sweet Katie…you are where every mother with small children has been more than once … there is no magical ‘lala land’ for Mommies …vacations are out of the question .. your ‘job’ right now is to raise two rambuncious boys and keep Matt by your side …be it folded laundry or a non burnt dinner .. choices have a way of making you know instinctivily which one needs to be handeled and which ones can be put on a back burner.…You should have your thryoid checked … I have been on thryoid meds for many years ..that should help with ‘mood swings’ …trust yourself …you have done a damn great job so far …don’t stop now …HUGS for just you {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{Katie}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Hey, your grandma is right… things are rough. And while I can’t promise that they get easier really quickly, they DO get easier, I promise. I honestly don’t remember the first couple of years of Aeryn’s life, or that period of time in Tabitha’s. Everything is just a blur of…doing. On demand. I had my thyroid checked a bunch of times, and they’ve all come out healthy… sometimes, you just have to be moody. Never let anyone underestimate you. And, yes, Matt has an important role to play in all of this too. Although he has another job, he can’t make you feel like less for being at home with the boys. When day care for an infant and a toddler would run you around $300 a week, remind him that just by being there for your boys, not having to pay for gas to run to a job and day care, not having to pay for many many more dinners out… you are making ‘money’! And like all jobs, you deserve a day off to go do your own things once in a while. He won’t suggest this–I don’t know why, but guys don’t usually think of it. You will just need to decide that you are going to do it. It will be good for him to be with the boys for a day, to know all that you do.
I have years of experience with this, too, darling. The older ones are getting much more manageable, but I know that I really suffered for adult interaction in those early years. I am here for a phone call ANY TIME (you can even wake me up… you are more important than sleep to me, hon), or anything you need. Really. I just feel bad that I am so far away.
And I have at least that much laundry to fold. And dinner tomorrow is pizza. And I’M NOT MAKING IT. *grin*
People used to tell me that “things will get better” and I was sure they were either lying or one of those people who things will never get better for. Sometimes I would get up early and lock myself in the basement just to get a half an hour free from the demands of others. But one day, things did get better. First it was one night of interrupted, soon followed by a couple more. Then one day, all the children stayed dry all day, and then there were several days when they were dry. Slowly, very slowly, things turned around. Took about six years, but it really did happen. Someone told me once that when you have children the days last FOREVER, but the years fly by. Hang in there! And it does help to unsubscribe to those millions of perfect family blogs that are really a fake (I mean clean clothes, perfectly curled hair, and clean rooms in the pictures=staged).