So Brent has been working out of town since July 4. I just realized that he has been away all month. All summer. No wonder I feel a little loopy. He did come home last weekend and we spent the entire weekend ordering a kitchen. Literally 11 hours spent at Ikea. Worth it, but not exactly every one's idea of quality time with Dad.
You would think that after having him here for a few days, this week would have been easier. But really, it just sucked. I sucked. I was not a fun parent. I did not enjoy my kids. I love them, but I really did not want to hang out with them this week. The constant noise and bickering grated on my nerves. Some of them spent an inordinate amount of time shrieking. Some picking on others. Some telling me no and to go away they hated me. I didn't even enjoy my baby all the time. I felt exhausted by having to carry him around all day and dig things out of his mouth every five seconds because we can't seem to keep the floors clean and safe around here for even 5 minutes.
I haven't even slept alone. Both Zed and Sunshine have been in my bed every night that Brent has been gone. Girly has made numerous appearances at the end of my bed too, I awake with her asleep on my feet like a cat!
Anyway, the other night, after 2 hours of struggling, I had finally got all four littles asleep. The baby had drifted off in my arms and I gently laid him in his bed. All I had been able to think of for hours was escaping for a few minutes to be alone and maybe drink a coffee or get some groceries or something.
As I laid him down, Sunshine immediately started screaming. I tried to comfort him, but I was pretty sure it was pointless. He has been doing that lately, barely napping or sleeping without me next to him. He had been doing so well, I could lay him down awake and he would go to sleep on his own... Anyway, I couldn't deal with starting all over again. I left him in his bed and went downstairs for a couple minutes to cry and regroup. I called my husband and whined and listened to my baby scream.
After about 5 minutes I couldn't take it anymore and I went up to check on babe. He was so upset. I picked him up and he puked all over both of us. I felt like the worst parent ever. I just balled as I cleaned us both up. I took him to my bed to comfort him and nurse him. I looked over at his bed and realized he had puked all over it. Poor thing! I was sure that he was puking because he was so upset and that made me a monster.
I was a wee bit relieved the next day when he was still puking and had watery stools. I knew that he wasn't sick from crying then. But my heart hurt that he was sick.
I love my family, I adore staying home with my kids and spending time with them. But a girl needs some support and some mental health time. I am trying to let go of the guilt, change my attitude of wanting escape and give myself some breaks. I want to be the best mom I can. I want to enjoy my kids and our time together. I don't want to be grumpy and short with them, I don't want to resent them and their presence. But sometimes, I feel all of those negative things and little of the positive. That is the truth.
And then life gets back to normal and one of them wraps their sticky little arms around my neck, or my teenager speaks to me in a silly accent about breakfast sausage and all is right in my little universe. I am thankful for my life and I love my kids. That is also truth.
But I am human. And once in a while I lose it, or wish I was on a beach with a fruity drink and a book and no kids. I was going to say, "No one calling me Mom." but what sweeter sound is there in the world than a wee voice saying, "Mom," and they are talking to you? I can't think of any...
Perspective. It is a good thing.