I’m sitting here tonight with a splitting headache. My stomach is in knots and I can’t really breathe. This is the way that it feels when you are a mom to three boys. Three boys that you adore more than anything in this world. Three boys that you would lay your life down for without a moment’s hesitation. Three boys that drive you to more insanity on a daily basis that any one person should have to tolerate.
I am going to mom up and take one for those of us that won’t admit that although we love our children, we can’t wait for that car door to close in the morning and to see them walk, or rather fight their way to the school house gates. For once, since walking into their bedroom to wake them at 6:30am this morning, I. Can. Breathe.
I can stop repeating those names that I chose when they were laid on my chest 8 and almost 9 years ago, repeatedly. I can not worry that they want to know if they can… have a snack, go outside, hold the lizard, walk the dog, color a picture, open some clay, eat the entire jar of Nutella. You know, those never-ending “can I” questions that without fail, will continue until you give in, give up and just walk. The. Fuck. Away.
I am reminded so many of these days lately of something that my own mother used to tell me. Something that I thought was so entirely cruel at the time. “I love you but, I just don’t like you right now.” Fuck, it makes me feel guilty just TYPING that. But, as much as I hate feeling it, hearing it come from my mouth… it is so true.
I’m still new to this “mom thing”. Now, as you read that, you’re probably wondering how in the hell I can claim that when I have not one, not two but THREE boys. Well, I can say that, and say it with complete confidence. I am new to being a mom to a soon to be 9 year old. I am new to the “mom thing” in regards to helping my 8 year old with homework that his brother didn’t have. I am new to this “mom thing” with a 14 month old that is so completely, in awe of me that he can’t be out of my line of sight or he will freak the fuck out.
Now, what started this particular blog is that I am tired. So, so terribly tired. Tired of being everything to everyone. Tired of making lunches that, most of which, comes home uneaten. A waste of my time and of our family groceries. I’m tired of having to ensure that my ADHD kid actually swallows that one little pill that can mean he is an angel or something worse than Satan himself. Tired of taking cold showers since the boys can’t properly time their hot ones. And mostly, I am tired of not being able to scream at the top of my lungs… I AM NOT A SUPER MOM! I CAN’T DO EVERYTHING! I WANT A HOT SHOWER! I WANT TO GO TO TAKE A PISS, ALONE!!!
I don’t want to answer a million questions. I just want to be quiet. And now… now that I have ranted enough for the night, I go and take a semi-warm shower and come to clean the dishes that will just multiply again by morning. Maybe if I am lucky, I will be able to go and crawl into Watson’s lap again and watch some television.
Tomorrow is after all, another looooong day.