**disclaimer, after I wrote this post I took a hot bath and did a 30-minute yoga practice that inspired me to write a much more positive post. I almost considered deleting this one, but decided it was a part of me, so look for the uplifting yoga post this weekend.
Not really. I’m serious, I’m not a hater. Okay, maybe just a little bit. It’s nothing personal, trust me. It’s not specifically you that I dislike. It’s not your hair or your personality, or your habits. It’s just that you are there and I bet you are there with the kids. And I bet you are not trying to cram bills and laundry and housecleaning and homework and dinner planning and photography and blogposts and a fifteen minute hot bath into one night or one weekend.
And I bet you would die to get out of the house right now. Perhaps one of your little ones has been sick for four days and you would give anything just to run away and go to the grocery store, alone. Or maybe your thinking, she has no idea, she gets to have adult conversations, no one screaming “mama” four hundred times a day. I bet she actually gets to read on her lunch hour. AND then she gets a paycheck. Every two weeks.
It’s been a rough week. Again, it seems. Every week is hard and no amount of planning or organization can defeat the frustration or the tiredness. No one said motherhood was easy. No one said balancing work and home life would be easy and NO ONE said running a house and a family alone would be easy. I love Karelyn so very much more than life itself, but if someone would have made me pause and say “wait, before you add a second child to your almost two year old, you need to know you’ll be doing this alone in about four years”, I might have rethought my position. (if you know me at all, you’ll say “she’s just tired” and know that I would not).
I know staying at home with your kids can be tough, but right now, I cannot help but think if I just had one month to focus on house and home, my family and my art, goodness what could I accomplish? What would my house look like? What would I actually be able to remember on a day to day basis versus the flying in ten directions and saying a prayer we are remembering everything. And this is with paper calendars and multitudes of lists and appointments scheduled in my cell phone.
Today, I had to have multiple reminders and I practically forgot one important thing. I actually DID forget to reschedule Emily’s dentist appointment, but that wasn’t the important thing, that would be almost forgetting to call home and find out which house the girls would be at this afternoon when their grandmother on their father’s side picked them up tonight.
Then there was the fundraiser. I had to pick up the school fundraiser. The only notification came as a recorded message last night. Good thing I got the message, because as the fundraiser is frozen food, if it was not picked up by between 4pm and 6pm tonight then it was to be donated. Are you serious? This is the forgetful woman’s nightmare. So I had it written on my calendar, my friend at work wrote it on a post it note and paperclipped it to my bag. Then I scheduled it on my cell phone and let it beep to remind me every five minutes between the time we closed at work and the time I pulled into the school parking lot.
I planned on working out tonight (hahahahahahahha). I just want to go curl up under a blanket and eat chocolate chip cookies. I hid all my dirty pots and pans in the dishwasher and they might stay there until Friday night when this work week is over. I’m going to ignore the cat litter box and the unswept floor and the hidden dishes and the broken closet door and go climb in a hot bath for a bit.
So I’m sorry. To the class mother who knows every child in my daughter’s class who I never even knew your daughter was my daughter’s best friend when I met you at variety show tryouts.
I’m sorry, mother who is scrapbooking every moment of her child’s upbringing and creating cute slideshows to music.
I’m sorry, mother with the ability to actually carry a camera and complete a 365 project.
I’m sorry, mother about ready to publish your first book, that you worked diligently on while the children were at school or napping.
I’m sorry, mother who is posting daily Flickr photos of her everyday life full of cups of tea, or pretty flowers arranged neatly on a table or of kids eating homemade, nutritious lunches or creating amazing crafty projects from ordinary household items.
I don’t really hate you. I’m just tired, and cold, and bitchy and lastly I’m just jealous.
How did you end up with my life?
Sometimes the one I ended up with seems ridiculously hard.