When my husband asks me what’s wrong, there’s about a 97% chance that I’ll say, “I’m just tired.” And God bless him, 37% of the time he responds with, “I got this – go take a nap.” Then, being the tired complainer I am, I get irritated. Because I don’t want to nap when you decide to give me permission! I want to sleep when I want to!
Which isn’t fair. He’s being nice. And I go and be nasty in return. And then it dawned on me, I’m not just tired. I’m exhausted. And it’s a kind of exhaustion that all the sleep in the world won’t solve. Because I’m not tired of not getting sleep. I’m tired of the Mom jobs that I’m saddled with. They aren’t going away anytime soon, so maybe if I vent them out – hear what makes you exhausted – and hide with my tribe for a few minutes, I can slam a cup of coffee, shake it off, and push through.
Until I cry because they’ve all left me for college.
But for now, here’s why I’m tired:
I’m tired of carrying everyone’s crap.
My giant purse is a chicken and the egg situation…..do I have everyone’s stuff because I have a giant purse, or do I have the giant purse because I know I need to carry all the things? I’m not sure, but either way I am stocked with diapers, Lego guys, water bottles, chapstick, and when I go places with my husband? He hands me his wallet and keys and phone like I’m his assistant. I mean, I’ve got the big bag, so let’s fill it up, right?
But it’s HEAVY. And I’m tired of lugging all.that.crap. everywhere.
I’m tired of knowing where everyone’s prized possessions are.
Whether it’s the kids or my husband, I need to keep track of every single thing in this house. I need to know where they are, at all times and be able to drop whatever I’m doing to go get them. Because God forbid I just tell you where they are – you still won’t find them.
Mommy, where’s Bucky?
Mommy, where’s my shoe?
Mommy, where’s my favorite red dinosaur? No, not that one, the almost identical one.
Honey, where’s my phone?
Honey, do you have my wallet?
Honey, have you seen my work badge?
Day, after day, after day.
Related Post: Man Eyes
I’m tired of answering the same questions.
Is it so much for me to request that if you ask me a question you just wait and listen to the answer? And believe whatever it is I tell you? With the kids is the constant repetition…
“Can we read 2 books tonight?”
“Okay. Can we read 2 books tonight?”
“Thanks. Can we read 2 books tonight?”
*Repeat sequence 47 times until….*
“YES! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU????”
Which hopefully I only scream in my head. But still. And then there are the questions from the Daddy. “Honey, what are we doing Saturday night?” The same thing I told you we were doing when you asked this morning dear. If you didn’t want to know this morning, or were planning on not paying attention and just asking again later – DON’T ASK. If you decide you are going to ask, please, please, for the love of God just listen to me.
Doing stuff that is immediately undone.
Why is it all my chores are the ones that are over practically before they begin? My husband waters the plants and gets to wait a week before he needs to do it again. I do the dishes and I can’t even unload the dishwasher before my kids have gone through 11 cups and 14 plates. He takes out the trash on Thursdays and I do laundry every 37 minutes. I will never be “caught up” on my chores.
And the food! These people want to eat 3-7 times a day! I barely finish one meal before someone is ready for the next!
It is what it is, but I get tired just looking at the unfolded laundry, bread for sandwiches, piles of mail that just keeps coming and coming and coming, and the toys. The never-ever-will-all-be-put-away toys.
Will a nap fix any of these things? Hell no. Will a coffee the size of my head? A neverending Coke machine in my kitchen? I doubt it. But I’ll try. And when all else fails, I’ll remember that – in theory – someday these kids will be out of this house. And while I won’t exactly miss the mess and the laundry and stepping on Legos, I’ll miss the energy of the house and all the things that made me so tired.