Seriously, I feel awful for complaining. But there's just so much stuff.
Stuff to be done, to be un-done. Planned, put away, washed, bought, we're out of toilet paper again, Mom oh I could go on. And on.
The high pitched voice of a certain three-almost-four-year-old that I just wasn't sure I could take ONEMORESECONDOF today and then the instant guilt and regret for thinking that, because some Moms would give anything for ONEMORESECONDOF that voice.
I'm just exhausted. This isn't anything new.
Hubby works late. I make dinner, direct homework, and try to wash dishes as I go (and, um no, we still don't have a working dishwasher) while sweeping what falls to the floor and monitoring the baby covered in food in her highchair.
This takes us directly to the bath and showers, for all four. And once they are all clean and jammied, I dish up ice cream and sorbet and we watch Leave It To Beaver together (they thought it was a show about beavers and I had to clue them in.)
I fold and stuff diapers, chase Ivy, snuggle Gray. The boys learn that they should try their Brussels sprouts because after all, they might like them. The Beave did.
We head upstairs and pick up things along the way. Bedtime. I lie in bed to get Ivy to sleep. For a long time.
And as I am lying there I feel like I didn't really get a thing done, that when I go downstairs it will look like a million tornadoes came right through my living room and kitchen. There will be a pile of dishes still in the sink.
But I know that my children love me. And I know that they know I love them
This feels good, because the other nights when I do get some things done for myself or the house is cleaner but I had to raise my voice a time or two, I lie in bed and feel like I am the worst Mom ever. And wonder if my kids really know how very much I love them.
Clean house = I'm happier for the moment but at the end of the day = guilt and regret
Messy house = kids know I love them at the end of the day = I feel like a good Mom (but overwhelmed by stuff)
I know there has to be a reasonable balance for this all. Maybe it won't come until Ivy's a bit older and I'm out of the baby years. Maybe I need to be easier on myself and just go with it for now, and stop letting myself feel so much.
I set our DVR to record Leave It To Beaver every day. I think there is something I can learn there, too.
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