It’s 3 pm and I’m in my bathroom sipping sangria and actually looking forward to my dentist appointment this evening. The dentist appointment that will involve a big needle and a drill. That should give you a glimpse as to what kind of day I’ve had. But in case you’re still fuzzy, let me paint a picture.
First, I sleep through my alarm because I’m just so darn tired. Why didn’t I stockpile sleep before I had kids?! Secondly, I’m woken up by a cranky toddler who jumps into bed and insists I rub her back. Another wakes up. Then another. Then another. It’s all happening way too fast.
Breakfast doesn’t suite their fancy, the baby throws his food on the floor, and the toddler pees on the floor. I’ve had 2 sips of room-temperature coffee.
Get the kids dressed, which involved 6 wardrobe changes between Sammy and Caramia (Sam’s pants are always too tight or too lose, and Caramia just needs a little more pink and sparkles.) There’s now 2 drawers of clothes all over the bedroom floor. I hate clutter.
Baby naps, so I help Silas with math. He’s having a tough time with today’s lesson. The inconvenience! Why can’t you solve for x on your own already?? You are 5 years old after all!!! I’m trying to drink my cold coffee here!?!?!? Sam, turn that music down!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Caramia, don’t wake up the baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Excessive punctuation indicates elevated frustration/decreasing patience/elevated voice/decreasing peaceful home.)
Then the kind, nurturing voice of my mentor glides into my head, “Recognize your limitations, dear.” Um, I’m pretty maxed out. I need a break from the kids. The noise. The needs. I need a moment to calm down. And they most certainly need a break from me!
So we do the only thing possible: throw in the towel on the day by 10 am. We march out in the rain to the YMCA (because the Child Watch will keep them for 2 hours.) I explain to them that Mommy is frustrated and having a hard time and we all need a break. I buy them each a soft pretzel as a peace offering. It will also be their lunch. I drop them off in the child watch and go hide in the spin room. I sit in the dark and call a friend for support. A fellow mom who’s also committing to being authentic vs. pinterest-y.
I then run 3 miles and the happy work-out hormones kick in. I dedicate each mile to something: fellow moms enduring the hardships of parenthood, my children, and my growth as a person. I pray and come up with a game plan for the rest of the day: Netfix. ALL. DAY. LONG. We get home and I take a shower while the kids eat chips (a good compliment to the pretzel).
And now here I sit. In a bathrobe sipping sangria and looking forward to my night out (at the dentist). I also find myself feeling thankful. Thankful for Netflix and the YMCA Child Watch and a baby who naps and for friends who offer support and suggestions.
A friend recently commented, “I don’t know how you do it and keep your sanity?” Well, here it is folks. Some days, my sanity stays in tact quite easily. Other days, it hangs on by a thread. A strong, persistent, not-quitting-now thread.