it's amazing what two nights
of more than one hour of sleep
at a time
will do to you.
i'm not ready to talk about it.
but, things are looking upish in the catching some zee's department.
and a well restedish mama means generally cheery children.
when i'm exhausted?
my babies are the ones who suffer.
and my husband.
about once a month i get to the point where
"i just can't do this anymore"
matt:: "what exactly is this?"
at this point i typically throw myself on the floor
sometimes i put my hand on my forehead for a little extra flair and say "this."
"all of this."
"i can't do it."
"you, them, this house, dinner, laundry. all of this!"
i need a real shower.
not just a quick bath.
i need to wash my hair.
i need to multitask and get results, not just make more work.
at this point, my pity party typically reaches an all time high.
i can't see through my tears and may or may not be on the brink of hyperventilating.
now i'm hyperventilating.
i tell him he will never understand.
he gets to pee alone. all day.
and if he wants a bag of funyuns?
all he has to do is go inside 7-11 and get them. by yourself. no kids or carseats or strollers involved.
"do you know how lucky you are?!!?"
now, i will have you know that this domestic drama breakdown has been occuring for almost two years now.
he was a terrible responder.
he still is.
at least for my love language.
but, he has come a long, long way, my friends. and i am extremely thankful for that.
it may have something to do with the fact that said outbreaks may not be 100% justifiable.
i'm not saying that, for the record. he might say that.
he simply can't understand why i am so ungrateful for my semi charmed life.
is there some truth to that?
staying present and grateful is tough. real tough, right?
at this point, i typically hold my phone, hover over my favorites and quickly rack my brain trying to figure out who to call.
who is going to have a sliver of sympathy.
who will be kind enough to put me on speaker, set the phone down and roll their eyes as i sob about how difficult this is. my life, my kids, my husband, a husband who doesn't get it.
because he never complains about his fourteen hour days, i shouldn't either.
he is a saint in that regard.
he never complains.
as of late, these domestic drama breakdowns are on the rise.
i attribute it to lack of sleep.
but, i can tell you, after two nights of semi sleep i can already notice a difference.
hopefully they will be on the decline.
i ran to my babies this morning.
and kissed them with my eyes. as soon as i saw their faces. and kissed their faces when i got to them.
and when sweet stella was crying out of sheer exhaustion for her nap?
i didn't join her.
i picked her up. and i rocked her until i heard her breathing change.
the pause, the sigh, and the slow down. the new pattern of breathing that says
"i am now dreaming, sweet, sweet dreams."
the stuff you miss when you spend a ridiculous amount of time feeling sorry for your self.
and your beautiful life.
i'm the first one to admit this blog is bipolar.
but that's where i am right now.
that's my life.
and low, lows, baby.
it's not all princesses, glitter and rainbows around here.
and i'm sure it's not over there either.
life isn't princesses, glitter and rainbows.
and that's ok.
i found this on pinterest today.
and since pinterest is obviously the gospel, i had a moment of clarity.
all of those things.
when i collapse on the floor, convinced that no ones life is harder than mine?
at the time?
i feel that way.
i really do.
and after a hardcore waterworks sesh,
a few hugs,
and matt rolling his eyes only two times, instead of the forty two times, that he used to.
i feel cleansed.
for another couple of weeks.
and i appreciate greatly that we have gone from forty two eye rolls, to two.
i have been told that this hysterical type of reaction or behavior is not conducive to a high stress environment.
i consider my life high stress. but that could be the dramatic in me. who knows.
keep calm and carry on, right?
i'm here to tell you, i don't have it in me.
those that do? really impress me.
i have become so much more patient since having children
i think it's as good as it's going to get.
so while i am extremely greatful.
the passion and the dramatic in me will probably overshadow the positive. at times. not always.
and i write here not just to complain.
and not only because i have exhausted those willing to put me on speaker and carry on with their day throwing in a sympathetic "poor thing" every few minutes.
but because everyone has it hard.
one way or another.
and if you can relate to my situation?
and you read and find yourself screaming
my kids yanked the curtain rod out of the wall today, too. drywall anchors and all!
and your husband doesn't tell you that no one could do a better job. or look better doing it everytime you are on the verge of a domestic drama meltdown?
i've got you.
no matter what it is about.
because i get it.
everybody's got their something.
what were your words?
i really want to know.
patient: extremely true
dramatic: absolutely, in his own way
outspoken: ummm yes. often it's too much.