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Just one of those days…
“I am so f*cking sick of the cooking and cleaning and ungrateful children,” I texted my husband at 4:55 P.M.
A nice lil’ thought to leave him with as he made his 45-minute drive home from work.
Maybe it was a little overdramatic. Or maybe it wasn’t, since I say this type of thing pretty frequently.
And what had happened to cause this text? Nothing out of the ordinary– just the same stuff that happens every day.
The children misbehave.
They hang on my legs.
I don’t know what to make for dinner.
They won’t eat my dinner even if I do make one.
They make messes everywhere they go.
I have vacuumed 56,000 times already today.
Why can’t someone invent some type of self-cleaning floor for underneath a kitchen table?!? Is that so much to ask for??
I want to sit down. WHY AM I ALWAYS STANDING UP?!?
As is my default, I yelled my way through bath time and getting pajamas on. I told my husband to cook his own dinner and then I escaped to my bedroom.
I laid on my bed for close to two hours, watching TV and playing on my phone. I pretended that I had no responsibility to get anyone to bed or read them stories.
I ghosted on my nightly mom duties.
But it didn’t feel as glorious as I had hoped.
I pretended to be asleep every time my husband came in the room because I was embarrassed by my behavior.
Unfortunately, I eventually realized that hiding in my room for the night wasn’t going to solve my problems, because even though I like to fantasize about running off to an island and having no children, that’s not going to happen.
I’m going to wake up in the morning and those three little monsters who drive me insane 75% of the time will still be there.
So I regrouped and made some battle plans.
The kids want to misbehave? I’m going to better about enforcing the rules.
They want to make messes? Then they will have to clean them up without me.
And they can start pulling some weight around here. WHY HAVEN’T I BEEN GIVING THEM CHORES UNTIL NOW?!?
With some tools to fight my feelings of helplessness, my mood improved enough for me to make the trip downstairs to eat some mini powdered donuts.
I know there will be more days where I want to give up, but I also know I’m not the only mom who goes through this.
Even just knowing that can make all the difference for me.