About Coreen, author of The Adventures of Captain Fussypants and Little Miss: I’m a 40-something wife (to a firefighter), mother (to a boy and girl), daughter, sister, friend, career gal, LA Kings fan, red wine drinker, sometime blogger, super hero (mostly in my own mind). I also really need a nap.
Quietly melting down. Have you had days like that? Weeks? Is it just part of motherhood? I don’t need an intervention and nobody is in any danger because the truth is, I have so many balls in the air that I don’t have time to actually melt down. But I’m close.
I’m not a big complainer, really. Sure, I vent, sometimes often. But I dislike bitching about my issues when I have several friends dealing with infertility issues, a friend mourning the death of her husband, and another finalizing her divorce. Being exhausted and emotional (and from my webMD self-diagnosis, probably premenopausal) ranks kinda low in the realm of things to complain about but I’m so tired that I can’t see straight.
While I’ve mastered the art of functioning on minimal sleep, I’m not my true self when this tired, and I don’t like not being 100%.
Like most moms, I do 1000 things at once, and many days I do it on my own because of my husband’s job. Between my kids, work, two school drop offs and pick-ups (it’s a crap-load of driving), multiple sports, household chores (more laundry than seems possible) and fitting in workouts (which I need to step up), I’m stretched thin.
Add to that my lack of sleep (why do I get no sleep? A few reasons, but mostly sleep issues with my daughter that has me up 2-3 times a night) and I can be a bit of a nightmare.
I feel like I’m constantly running and playing catch-up. But something happened this week that made me realize I have to make a change.
My 2.5 year old daughter, my sweet girl, my little shadow who just wants to be near me, said “I’m starting to get mad” when I wasn’t listening to her.
And damn if she didn’t say it to me exactly how I’ve said it to her and her brother. She followed it up with “Mommy, are you happy?” And I almost cried.
Wanting my attention, and concerned if I am happy. Mornings are not my favorite time of the day because getting the kids out of the house is no picnic. They argue, they procrastinate and I usually (always) end up yelling. So I’ve been trying something new.
Instead of going from 0 to screaming in seconds, I’m saying it once, repeating it once then I warn them that I’m starting to get mad.
The good news is that my daughter is listening. But I don’t want to be that mom. I don’t want to get angry because I’m so tired my patience is non-existent when
I find my sweet girl in in the kitchen wearing just underwear and one shoe on the wrong foot, when she was dressed and ready to go just minutes before.
Those should be laughable moments. When my hubby is home, he is helpful. My parents are also helpful but with consistent interrupted sleep, I can’t catch up on my zzzzs (or laundry, it seems). There is always something to do. And always something keeping me awake. There was a time where I used to be very good at finding the balance but that was when I was getting my full eight hours. I keep telling myself this is a phase, that soon enough my kids will be teenagers who want to sleep all day and I’ll have so much time on my hands I won’t know what to do with myself. But until then, I’m tired. Really tired.
Lacking patience. And missing laughable moments.
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