As I was saying, with the birth of my son came new irritating reasons for my evil thoughts. Let me explain…
*Reminder: Don’t read if you have easily ruffled feathers or wear pearls wound a little too tightly.
Maternity leave is no vacation. Momming is the hardest, yet most important, job I will ever have. While on leave, I was constantly being needed and constantly being touched. Whether it’s wiping butts, keeping my toddler from eating an entire tube of toothpaste, or being a walking milk buffet for my newborn son, my time was not mine. I barely had time to eat. My toddler eats, or should I say snacks, ALLLLLL day long, and the majority of my “meals” come from her leftovers. I don’t get to shower alone. And I definitely don’t get to go to the restroom alone. EVER. My conversations are about the same subjects every day, and if I try to deepen the subject, I get confused looks from both my toddler and my newborn. While this job is rewarding in more ways than I can name and I so completely enjoy each and every day with them (even the long ones), some days it is hard for mommy not to go entirely bonkers.
I look forward to my husband coming home from work. It’s right at bedtime, so I look forward to having another set of hands to help with our nightly routine. But when he comes home, ready to take a load off, ready to eat, ready to be on his phone or watch TV… MOMMY CAN’T DEAL (insert MOMSTER emoji and hear me ROOOAAARRRR).
One particular day sticks out in my mind more than others in the event of losing my mind. I hadn’t had any help or relief for 168 hours straight. I had been living off of cheese cubes and fruit snacks (when I could manage to sneak one). My husband is normally off two days a week, but those two days he had other things to attend to…
[[Side note: You know how Jay-Z has 99 problems? Well, he don’t got nothin’ on my hubs! My husband has 99-hundred problems… I feel like he went to the dentist twice a week… In addition, he went to the allergy doctor, the regular doctor, the thyroid doctor, and the dermatologist (for the love, it’s dandruff… listen to me and we won’t have to pay a doctor). Anyways, you might say his favorite pastime is going to the doctor… (Now that I think about it, maybe he’s on to something here…)]]
Anyways, on one of these very long days alone, my potty-trained two-year-old peed the bed during nap time… So I had a hungry, crying newborn in my arms, a soaked, crying toddler, and I had to manage to strip the bed all at the same time. The entire day went like this, and I literally swear I heard my mind crack. It started to break. I was seriously losing it. I was about to be split in two… And quite frankly, that white padded cell was sounding more and more appealing.
So when my helpful husband comes home from work at bedtime, what did he do? Immediately starts making himself a sandwich… I swear I could have taken the bread wrapper and strangled him with it in that very moment.
In my anger, I snatched up both kids and headed to bed with not one but two crying babies who were not wanting to go to bed (I may have cried as well). Expecting my husband to come save me from at least one and save a piece of my little remaining sanity, I was let down…. Instead he sat in there eating that damn sandwich (ROAR).
When the kids were FINALLY asleep, I creeped out of the room desperate for adult conversation but trying not to attack my husband like a crazed, wild beast ready for the kill. I sit down and what is the first thing he says? “I think I want to start running to do something for myself. It will give me some me-time.” WhatintheholynameofJesus! My mouth literally dropped open as I was astounded at the nerve of him. He wants some me-time??? REALLY??? I’ll give him some “me-time” alright (grrr). When do I get me-time?! So, he wants to run does he? Then that’s just what he’ll do.
And that’s when he RAN… He ran into my knife… Ran into my knife TEN TIMES.
(Yes, I just compared myself to Chicago, but it felt necessary-“he had it coming”… Am I right, ladies?)
Not really. In reality, I gave him a tight-lipped nod, and he went outside for a run through the neighborhood… And I had murder on my mind.
(No one actually died in the making of this blog post. I regrouped, gathered my few remaining bits of sanity, and probably went to bed. And we all survived!)
Disclaimer: Now believe me, I love each and every day with my kiddos. Most are filled with lots of laughs, kisses, and snuggles. But everyone has bad days. I wouldn’t trade any of this time for the world. I also truly love my husband and appreciate everything he does for our family. He is actually very helpful most days, and he is the most amazing daddy. I seriously couldn’t dream up anyone better to do life with. You know how those early days adjusting get to the new, hormone-imbalanced mommies… plus, the lack of sleep on top of that… one might say it got to me that week!
Episode 3 coming soon…