Burn Out

I’ve been super mom lately. The bad thing about being super mom and doing all of the mom things is, burn out. I hit a wall yesterday. Full force, slam into the wall. I suddenly couldn’t take doing the mom thing for one.more.second.

With the exception of my ER trip a few weeks ago, I have literally not been away from my kids for one second in 5 months.

I hadn’t regularly, or frequently in any way, been away from my kids for 37 months before Everett was born, or really the last 10 1/2 years. But the last 5 months have been intense. I’ve been through a lot. And I’ve done it all. But I need a vacation. Desperately.

Ember started peeing her bed at night about a week ago. The problem with this wasn’t getting up and changing bedding and bathing her in the middle of the night. The problem was she would scream at the top of her lungs the entire time this was taking place. No matter what I said or did, she was just screaming and wouldn’t stop until she was cleaned, dry, and back in her bed.

This meant she not only woke up me and Allan (Allan pulls a pillow over his head and goes straight back to bed) but Sierra, and Everett as well. Which meant after getting her settled I had to be up with a startled, fussy Everett for another 30-60 minutes.

I already wasn’t getting enough sleep, at all. I have not slept 8 hours straight in 42 1/2 months!

I texted Allan last night around 5:30pm and said, “Can you PLEASE come home now?”

No answer.

He got home at 7:30pm after I’d done dinner and all that stuff. The usual.

I handed Everett to him and said I was going to the store alone.

I cried as I drove to the store from the burden of it all. Doing something ever waking second of the day takes its toll! I have someone talking to me or asking something of me every second of the day. There are two days a week where I only have Ember and Everett. And Everett’s been fussy lately (teething?) and won’t take his regular naps like he used to. So even those easier days were difficult. And the days where Payson, Ember, and Everett were home were stressful because Payson is a little tazmanian devil. He wakes up and goes through the world destroying everything in his path. He has to touch everything, mess with everything, and breaks and ruins things in the process. He’s not the worse little boy ever by any means (the stories I’ve heard from other moms! Yikes!) but he’s definitely a little boy. (gender roles

Last night at like 9pm she told me she was “hungweeeeeee” in a super whiny voice. We’d had dinner. She’s a picky eater so had picked at it. I wanted to tell her, “I don’t care if you’re hungry! You should be in bed! I’m sick of taking care of you every second I’m awake!”

But I didn’t. Allan thinks I should come down hard on her now. I don’t know.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.