Pour me another! (...cup of coffee)
6:45am:
To a lot of people, it's not that early. To a "career bartender" (we'll get into that topic another day), it's pretty early...
My 3(ish) year old barrels over me, runs down the hallway, and before I can even lift an eyelid starts crying. I pull the covers off, walk into the living room where he's sitting on the couch in the dark, and ask why he's upset. I'm pretty sure he wasn't fully awake, he mumbled some nonsense, so I picked him up and carried him back to my bed. Apparently this isn't what he wanted. I put the blankets on him, he kicked them off. I tried to hug him, he tells me to stop touching him. I so much as bend a knee and, God forbid, his foot touches it... (did you hear that big *sigh*?)
7:30am:
He's already asking me to go outside. It's 27 degrees. No.
7:31am:
The request for chocolate milk. Now, usually in my house, chocolate milk is a treat. It's something special that he gets on the weekends or if he's done something really great. So far this morning, he hasn't been so great. The battle over "WHY" begins...
8am:
Breakfast time! Seems like a good morning for waffles and turkey sausage. I sip my coffee as I make his plate, trying not to pick off of it knowing my current "diet" won't allow. I put the plate in front of him with an exaggerated "yummmm!" He's not amused. He still wants chocolate milk.
8:40am
I finally get him to eat his damn waffles by feeding him myself. I've not been awake 2 hours and I can already feel my blood pressure rising. You know how to use a fork.
Somewhere between morning and afternoon:
I can't take anymore playing Cars, or Super Mario House (as he calls it). I love that he calls me "Princess Peach" while he wears his Mario hat, but he's already saved me from Bowser about 37 times and I really need to do laundry and clean up the kitchen. I know these times are precious but if I just had a little free time I could get so much done!
3(ish)pm:
Sir William III, Duke of Hillcrest, finally gives permission to leave the house (that's my son, in case you didn't catch that...). I haven't even showered yet. I wash my face, pile on some good eye cream and concealer, and head out the door. We run some errands and head to the mall, where he can run free with all the other crazy kids. I sit on the pea-green bench in the germ-infested kids' play area and take a good look around. Directly across from me is a woman with long stringy hair, noticeable bags under her eyes, and a blank stare as her kids run in circles around the slide. Next to her, a younger mom, with a son who is, I'd guess, around 5. I'm assuming he did something bad, because the straight-forward glare she maintained while he's talking in her ear was a look I'm quite familiar with. Then there's the dad in the corner, newborn strapped to his chest while his toddler plays; the grandparents, the nannies... all with that same look. That look that says I JUST NEED A BREAK. Suddenly I'm feeling like I'm not the only one here who's tired.
5:45pm:
He's been running and playing nonstop, if we head home now he'll fall asleep in the car and it's too late for a nap. Tonight will be miserable. AHA! Let's go right across the street and grab some dinner, just the two of us! I'll get his belly full and by the time we leave it'll be dark and he'll be exhausted and fall asleep and I'll get some peace and quiet (FINALLY!).
7pm:
Nope. I turned a 10-minute drive into 30 minutes. I took the back roads, looking into the rearview mirror watching his tired eyes fight it and fight it.... he just kept finding ways to keep himself awake. So I gave up. We went home.
7:30pm
He's in his pj's, I've got one of his favorite movies on. I turn the lights out... I know he's tired.
7:40pm:
...aaaand cue the request for milk. I get up, walk to the kitchen, get some milk, and bring it back to bed. He drinks it while talking nonstop, and starts tossing and turning like he usually does when he's about to fall asleep...
BUT NO! What happens after he drinks all that milk? He's gotta pee! Ugh. We get up and make a trip to the bathroom.
Okay... back in bed. Now it's time to fall asleep, kid. He tosses and turns a few more times... "I want my puppy" he says (there's another big *sigh,* did ya hear that one??)
8(IDGAF anymore) 0'clock:
FINALLY. Asleep. I look over at his peaceful little face. His beautiful long lashes and his perfect tiny nose. He has one arm wrapped around his puppy and one arm laying across my chest. For the very first time in the last 14 hours, I have silence.
Being a parent is tricky. It is the most rewarding, and most challenging thing I've ever done. The level of exhaustion is something that no one understands until they become a parent. No amount of sleep or time off will cure it... it's beyond that. It's almost like your soul is exhausted; as if it goes so much deeper than just your body, mind, and emotions. There are days (probably most days) that I feel like I'm going to LOSE MY MARBLES. I often wonder, is it me? Am I not being a good enough mom? Should I be doing more?
BUT, at the end of the day, when I finally have peace in my head (and perhaps a drink in my hand), I realize that all parents feel this way, at some point. All of those moms, dads, grandparents, and nannies at the mall... we were all there for the same reason: TO LET THEM PLAY WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Why? Because we all need that break. We need that peace. Nowadays everyone is so quick to judge everyone else, but if you really take a second to look around, you'll realize there are a lot more people out there that are just like you. Take it in, one day at a time. Look forward instead of back... and if you lose your marbles, pick them up and gracefully carry on.
--
To a lot of people, it's not that early. To a "career bartender" (we'll get into that topic another day), it's pretty early...
My 3(ish) year old barrels over me, runs down the hallway, and before I can even lift an eyelid starts crying. I pull the covers off, walk into the living room where he's sitting on the couch in the dark, and ask why he's upset. I'm pretty sure he wasn't fully awake, he mumbled some nonsense, so I picked him up and carried him back to my bed. Apparently this isn't what he wanted. I put the blankets on him, he kicked them off. I tried to hug him, he tells me to stop touching him. I so much as bend a knee and, God forbid, his foot touches it... (did you hear that big *sigh*?)
7:30am:
He's already asking me to go outside. It's 27 degrees. No.
7:31am:
The request for chocolate milk. Now, usually in my house, chocolate milk is a treat. It's something special that he gets on the weekends or if he's done something really great. So far this morning, he hasn't been so great. The battle over "WHY" begins...
8am:
Breakfast time! Seems like a good morning for waffles and turkey sausage. I sip my coffee as I make his plate, trying not to pick off of it knowing my current "diet" won't allow. I put the plate in front of him with an exaggerated "yummmm!" He's not amused. He still wants chocolate milk.
8:40am
I finally get him to eat his damn waffles by feeding him myself. I've not been awake 2 hours and I can already feel my blood pressure rising. You know how to use a fork.
Somewhere between morning and afternoon:
I can't take anymore playing Cars, or Super Mario House (as he calls it). I love that he calls me "Princess Peach" while he wears his Mario hat, but he's already saved me from Bowser about 37 times and I really need to do laundry and clean up the kitchen. I know these times are precious but if I just had a little free time I could get so much done!
3(ish)pm:
Sir William III, Duke of Hillcrest, finally gives permission to leave the house (that's my son, in case you didn't catch that...). I haven't even showered yet. I wash my face, pile on some good eye cream and concealer, and head out the door. We run some errands and head to the mall, where he can run free with all the other crazy kids. I sit on the pea-green bench in the germ-infested kids' play area and take a good look around. Directly across from me is a woman with long stringy hair, noticeable bags under her eyes, and a blank stare as her kids run in circles around the slide. Next to her, a younger mom, with a son who is, I'd guess, around 5. I'm assuming he did something bad, because the straight-forward glare she maintained while he's talking in her ear was a look I'm quite familiar with. Then there's the dad in the corner, newborn strapped to his chest while his toddler plays; the grandparents, the nannies... all with that same look. That look that says I JUST NEED A BREAK. Suddenly I'm feeling like I'm not the only one here who's tired.
5:45pm:
He's been running and playing nonstop, if we head home now he'll fall asleep in the car and it's too late for a nap. Tonight will be miserable. AHA! Let's go right across the street and grab some dinner, just the two of us! I'll get his belly full and by the time we leave it'll be dark and he'll be exhausted and fall asleep and I'll get some peace and quiet (FINALLY!).
7pm:
Nope. I turned a 10-minute drive into 30 minutes. I took the back roads, looking into the rearview mirror watching his tired eyes fight it and fight it.... he just kept finding ways to keep himself awake. So I gave up. We went home.
7:30pm
He's in his pj's, I've got one of his favorite movies on. I turn the lights out... I know he's tired.
7:40pm:
...aaaand cue the request for milk. I get up, walk to the kitchen, get some milk, and bring it back to bed. He drinks it while talking nonstop, and starts tossing and turning like he usually does when he's about to fall asleep...
BUT NO! What happens after he drinks all that milk? He's gotta pee! Ugh. We get up and make a trip to the bathroom.
Okay... back in bed. Now it's time to fall asleep, kid. He tosses and turns a few more times... "I want my puppy" he says (there's another big *sigh,* did ya hear that one??)
8(IDGAF anymore) 0'clock:
FINALLY. Asleep. I look over at his peaceful little face. His beautiful long lashes and his perfect tiny nose. He has one arm wrapped around his puppy and one arm laying across my chest. For the very first time in the last 14 hours, I have silence.
Being a parent is tricky. It is the most rewarding, and most challenging thing I've ever done. The level of exhaustion is something that no one understands until they become a parent. No amount of sleep or time off will cure it... it's beyond that. It's almost like your soul is exhausted; as if it goes so much deeper than just your body, mind, and emotions. There are days (probably most days) that I feel like I'm going to LOSE MY MARBLES. I often wonder, is it me? Am I not being a good enough mom? Should I be doing more?
BUT, at the end of the day, when I finally have peace in my head (and perhaps a drink in my hand), I realize that all parents feel this way, at some point. All of those moms, dads, grandparents, and nannies at the mall... we were all there for the same reason: TO LET THEM PLAY WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Why? Because we all need that break. We need that peace. Nowadays everyone is so quick to judge everyone else, but if you really take a second to look around, you'll realize there are a lot more people out there that are just like you. Take it in, one day at a time. Look forward instead of back... and if you lose your marbles, pick them up and gracefully carry on.
--
A fiercefine first post..kudos! You must have a good teacher😜
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