I’m tired of scraping wrongly-smeared plaster from my kitchen floor. I’m tired of driving. I’m tired of comparing bathroom tiles. I’m tired of wondering if there’s enough milk left in my fridge for Hubby’s cereal the next morning. I am TIRED. How cliche. How typical. How pathetic. For me to admit this is like my personal death. I’m the chick (or was the chick) who once found clarity by burning the candle at both ends. Now the smoke is so thick that I think I might be choking.
My little family moved into our first house last week. (Yay! But also oy.) I’m quickly realizing there are no more weekends from here on out. There is no more downtime. This needs to be painted, that needs to be fixed. This needs to be unpacked, that needs to be cleaned. I’m happy and thankful to be in this club now but damn I already miss the days when my mind could go flimsy. I HATE that what would’ve taken me a day to accomplish now takes 2 and a half (maybe 3) with baby in tow. I’m betting that 2, 3 and 4 kids slows you down even more. Gee, can’t wait. Now I get why it took my mom months to clean her pantry when we were little kids: She. Was. TIRED.
So, how do we get through it (besides more coffee)? Be like Nike and just do it. There is no other choice. The “mom” is often everything to everyone because we are the only gender that can handle it. Men couldn’t do this if their life depended on it. You know I’m right. So, I’m starting to look at things as a power trip (as opposed to getting bogged down). Find energy in the authority you have. “This place would fall apart without me,” “I am the core of this operation,” “You are so lucky you married me” or “I am fabulous” all seem to work for me.
It might make your ego swell, but you will start to brainwash yourself and believe it. If anyone complains (ie: your hubby) just smile, know you are superior and continue with your business as if he weren’t there. We wanted this job of Mommyhood, we got it, and now we must deliver for the greater good (a balanced and happy family life and a plaster-free kitchen) by any means possible. This place would fall apart without you. Remember it. Revel in it. Rock it. (Afterall, there are little people watching and learning from you.)
Now what makes your hubby so lucky? I promise I won’t tell.