In other words; a total failure. Things were going so well after my son and I came home from the doctor. I told my daughter to be extra nice to her little brother because he got three shots today. She still remembers the last time she got her shots so she was very nice to him….for about an hour and a half.
I don’t know what changed, but all hell broke loose. Screaming, fighting, hair pulling, hitting, kicking, and the back talking.. Oh. My. GOD. My little girl is headstrong, independent and mouthy as hell. I fear for her because she may not make it to her teenage years (kidding of course, but God help me).
By lunch time my exhaustion overwhelmed me. All I wanted was quiet time.
I feel like I failed today because I pulled away from my kids. I was too distant. Even to my baby. I go through periods where I do not want to touch or be touched. It seems like these days are when my kids want to climb all over me and smother me with their hugs and kisses and energy. I try very hard to grit my teeth and bear it because it is not their fault I feel this way and I do NOT want to do to them what my first step-dad did to me: My first memory of my step-dad was I was trying to give him a hug and kiss goodnight and he turned his head and pushed me away, hard. I had done nothing to him, but whatever was wrong with him he took it out on me.
I never want my kids to feel that way, but at the same time I just can not stand to be touched. And I realize how absolutely awful it sounds for me to say I “grit my teeth and bear it”, but let me make this clear: I Love My Kids. I love them and I could not imagine life without them. But today I was just too tired. Too overwhelmed by stress. And I’m still on the edge of my downward spiral. I briefly thought I had managed to tip the other way, but it seems I only delayed the inevitable.
My husband was not too helpful today either. I don’t know how to approach him. I understand he works all night and has to sleep during the day, but when he’s awake before he has to go to work, he lounges about and watches his TV shows. I typically get no help around the house. Once in a while he’ll do some dishes, but that’s about it. He’ll zone out in his TV show and tunes out the kids. It pisses me off. I need help. I tell him I need help, but I always have to ask him or say something to him before he does anything. I don’t understand why he can’t take it upon himself to help me without my having to ask. Am I expecting too much? I mean, he works, I get it, but he comes home and it’s like a mini vacation. I live at work. I don’t get to leave work. I don’t get an eight hour shift, I’m on the clock twenty-four freaking seven. I don’t earn leave, I don’t get sick days, I don’t even get paid, but I do it.
I know, I know, poor me, right? Suck it up buttercup. I am not meaning to throw any kind of pity party, I’m just so lost in my own head right now about how I was today. I have very little patience and when I run out of it, that’s it. I’m freaking done. And that was me. Just done. My kids weren’t listening to me, my husband wasn’t listening to me, and I still had to make dinner for everyone and then pack a lunch for my husband. Yeah, I got on him about the packed lunch thing. Most days I don’t mind it at all, but on days like today it would be nice if he packed his own freaking lunch.
I wish I could just shed my skin when I start to feel myself slipping. Shed away the tired, stress, grumpy old me and emerge bright and shiny and ready to face the world.