Dear tired Mom who’s at her wits end…
It’s 5AM. A new day is here. Another weekday, that is. You saw almost every hour roll by overnight. If you weren’t seeing to one of your children. You were busy tossing and turning, dealing with pregnancy insomnia or that incessant night cough that just won’t let up. It was another sleepless night.
Alas, your husband pleads with you one last time to get out of bed before he runs out the door for his daily commute. While you are thankful for all that he does for the family, you secretly wish he didn’t have to leave. As you stagger down the stairs in your zombiesque state, your husband passes you a hot coffee as he runs out the door in a mad dash to catch his weekly commuter train.
Another 12 hour day awaits you. Another day of you consumed by the four walls with the tiny army that you created. You’re hopeful that today will be a great day. I mean how could it not be. You’ve got your coffee in hand. The kids are soon going to head off to school. Leaving you with 6 glorious hours alone with your toddler.
It’s now 7:30AM. Cue the screaming and arguing. Your eldest two are at it again. You try to tune it out, but figure you may need to step in before one of the children hurt the other.
You sort matters out, take a deep breath and continue on with your day. Getting the kids ready for school and out the door. Barely on time, but at the very least you’re out the door. All in one piece.
The drive to school sparks another argument between the eldest two. You try to breathe through it. You know the breathing that resembles that of when you are in labour. Yea. That kind of breathing. Finally, you have had enough and turn on the in-car entertainment system. Buying you some quiet time before you can release the scoundrels to the school for the day. You see your break on the horizon, and you are awaiting that moment like a kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to come.
That’s when it happens. Your middle child starts complaining that he has a headache and a tummy ache. Just what you need. I mean you only just had to rush your youngest to emergency early this week when she fell violently ill overnight. The last thing you really want to deal with right now is a sick child. You sigh, admit defeat and tell them they can stay home for the morning, maybe they are just tired.
Your eldest heads off to school and you head home with 1 more child than you had planned. As you pull in the driveway that’s when it happens, the child who was complaining of body aches barfs all over the backseat of your brand new car. Before you can get him out of his seat, he does it again. And… Again.
You manage to weasle him out of his seat and get him into the bath. As you are undressing him you notice spots on his legs. Spots that resemble that of chicken pox or measles. Frig, you think to yourself, How the hell am I going to get the car cleaned up and the kid to the doctor. Yes, while all this is going on your toddler is still strapped in their car seat in the van waiting for you… You haven’t forgotten. You just don’t have 10 hands like you sometimes wish you had.
You manage to get the car cleaned out. Changed the toddlers dirty diaper. Started a load of laundry. Disinfected in the main areas of the home, and bathed your sick child all in the span of 40 minutes. Just in the knick of time to load both children back in the car in head out on the way to the doctor.
Thankfully, the doctor’s office moves quickly. You receive the diagnosis. Double ear infection, strep and reaction to bug bites.
You rush home to fill the prescription. Not before stopping at Starbucks to pick up a Venti Peppermint Mocha. You really should have ordered a Trenta. You deserve the pick me up.
Upon getting the prescription and picking up the prescription, you head home, start another load of laundry and begin thoroughly cleaning your children’s rooms. I mean, bug bites after all… What the hell is causing those?! You are determined to get the bottom of it.
3PM creeps up on you and you wonder where the hell the day has gone. After all you have been running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off.
You explain to your eldest to take it easy on the younger two upon picking her up from school. Of course she doesn’t. She’s in a mood (isn’t she always… 6 almost seems like the new 16). You are at your wits end.
While cooking dinner, you spy a bottle of wine on the counter… Your husband’s bottle, but a bottle you so badly wish you could take a swig from. Of course, you don’t. You can wait it out 4 more months. After all you are creating a new life.
You feel almost crazy, like you aren’t cut out to be a mother, questioning your every moment through this whirlwind of a journey called parenthood. You have reached that state when you are not sure whether you want to laugh or cry. You want to cry, but you won’t. You will just continue on with what you are doing, quietly trying to tune out the world around you while you countdown the arrival of Daddy, planning your escape from the house. You’re planning to bail like you are escaping Alcatraz the moment he walks through the door.
Then that’s when you feel it, that tug at your shirt… You are startled from your flustered daze, as you look down at your child. “Mommy, I love you,” you hear them quietly whisper as they nestle their head into the side of your thigh, “You’re pretty great you know.”
It’s at that moment that your bad day… er… week vanishes. Those few simple words uplifting your spirit. Motherhood may be unperfect, but it is perfectly unperfect. You realize quickly that although the days may get rough, you got this. You’re trying the best you can and those little people recognize that. At times it may not feel like it, but they do. To them you are Super Mom. Today, tomorrow and always.
You got this. Even when you so badly want to run screaming. You got this.