I will admit it... I am running on empty. My briefly reclaimed energy and sense of enthusiasm is currently being sucked away by the trial of making people on the inside, and wrangling the ones on the outside. I am a slave to my raging hormones who first fill me to bursting with love and wonder one moment and then dash me on the rocks of ennui and exhaustion the next....
Apparently I am also a Drama Llama. ;) But I am tired, sore, and brain dead... and I'm only three months in. *shudder* I think it's worse when you know what you are in for.
Don't get me wrong... I am happy to be making the next installment of crazy. The way I feel about my children is indescribable and life alteringly wonderful. We will now be a three chapter bestseller .. but let's face it... being pregnant also reminds you of why men have been running amuck and starting wars unchecked all this time and not women. I am too damn tired to do anything except exist and snuggle on the couch and I have no extra brain space. As I like to remind my poor long-suffering Hubbs regularly, "You know this shit used to KILL us allthedamntime. And not just the delivery part! Just the pregnancy could do us in.", but, then he does something sweet, like clean the kitchen, and I just can't keep spouting Non-Baby-Making hate speech at him... I mean, that sink was FOUL and he was a brave man to jump in there without some serious Hazmat-like protection.
But here's my Pregnant Working Mom's 1st World Problem: Who am I and where did I go and when will I get back?
When everyone is weaned and on the outside you get used to some sort of "Mom Autonomy". While the kids are at school you can go to work, sip your coffee, and make big girl decisions. You can think about things other than who may need to go sit on the potty, what to make for dinner, and selling nap time to a cranky toddler. (Obviously... I am not SAHM material. Duh, right? I actually gave it a go... and then needed anti-depressants and someone to peel me off the ceiling every day around 4 p.m... No bueno.) But now that I am pregged-up, my Mom Time is seeping into my Non-Mom Time in a big way. I am a 24/7 baby-making-palooza with no breaks and NO Vacays. Par for the course, yeah, but no less difficult. All those little de-stressing activities (i.e. - Reading Smut and Pinterest Inspirations) I had before implantation have fallen by the wayside out of sheer tired. And, because this ain't mah first rodeo, I know it's going to be a coon's age before I find my energy and can resume aforementioned funs. Whaaaaaaa!
Yes... I would like some cheese with my Whine. Because I can't HAVE wine... so bring extra cheese. And crackers. And tacos.
So, in short (and just short), I am a mess of grieving my "Me-Reclaiming" mixed with Supa-excitement over meeting our newest mess maker. Oh, and ugly crying over episodes of "Supernatural". The one where the lesbian LARPer reads "The Hobbit" to her comatose Mom right before they take her off life support just about did me in. Seriously.
Three kids means your life is not your own until the last one leaves home....but you will miss it all...really....I swear. It's good though to have all this stuff in writing so when you get to my age you don't wax on poetically about the growing and raising little people..it's so much harder when you are in the trenches then when you are just remembering when you were worshiped as the greatest thing EVER...My friend and I were just remembering the great pickle debacle when I, preggers with number 3 and 2 others under the age of 3...fell asleep when naps were suppose to be going on....woke up to number 2 son standing over me eating pickles stuck on the end of a steak knife....good times! It's a wonder any of them reached adulthood.
ReplyDeleteWait... they are supposed to worship me? Now, that would be okay. That knife/pickle debacle is priceless! I love it! Who are you and why are you not writing about this?
DeleteWell yes..worship of 'she who must be obeyed' is mandatory...is that just my rule??...when they are little...they think you are a goddess...but oh how that quickly changes....You know me Synnove.....and you know my whole cast of characters...(I didn't realize I used Anonymous..it works for me though...can you guess which one was the pickle and knife kid??
DeleteHahahahahaaa! I totally know who THAT was... and it all makes sense now. I have to say, Sass has entered an "Why? I don't want to! No I won't! You said no but I'll ask Daddy!" phase that has left me feeling less worshipped, more strangle-y.
DeleteI still think you should write about your experiences. It would give those of us who have also had nutter-butter boys hope that they will, in fact, grow up to be kind, functioning adults. Because there are days...
Oh yes...the old 'let's play one parent off the other' As old as time..two words..United Front....even if you totally disagree...have that discussion in private..hang tough..has the eye rolling begun yet???...remember soon they will outnumber you and your hubby..safety in numbers..I do have some great stories but as one of my beloved sons said when he saw I was commenting on your blog "no good will ever come of this" HeHe...good to let him sweat a little bit.
DeleteWe get eye rolling AND the heavy sigh... And he's not even 4. Yikes! Hubbs and I already have the automatic reply of "Well, what did your mom/dad say?" ;)
DeleteHe-he indeed... Heh.
new follower from the friend connect hop!
ReplyDeletewww.violetlulu.blogspot.com
"then dash me on the rocks of ennui and exhaustion.." Wow! You're waxing poetic now!! You stay in this state, girl!! *runs away before she gets hit* :P
ReplyDeleteYeah, that was a bit much, huh.... Tee-hee...
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ReplyDeleteLOL. I am not laughing at you, laughing with you. This too shall pass. Chalk it up to the raging hormones, you will come out the other side fine, maybe a little dinged and dirty but...one day, yes you will look back on these fond memories of child bearing, raising the children you bore and think....ahhmazing...ahhhmazingly tiring but so worth it, right? Hey I feel for you but I have it coming and going....I have a 21,14,5,3 year old, just when I thought I was done...I wasn't. LOL. Thanks for linking up with TALU.
ReplyDeleteAs much as you probably don't want to hear this...
ReplyDeleteIt actually doesn't get that much easier. Our 23 year old daughter is home because she needs shoulder surgery. Our 22 year old son thinks traveling the US while we pay his rent because he's still in college is appropriate. Our 19 year old is paralyzed - should he stay or should he go?
BUT...it is all wonderful, I wouldn't trade it for anything, and...
I'm still tired!