Today was not great. Nor was yesterday. Or the day before that. And now I am grumpy. Down in the dumps, not wanting to do anything but complain, grumpy. The glass is half empty. With vodka.
The house is a mess. Constant mess. And every moment I get the energy to run around cleaning I turn a corner and it’s a disaster again. It’s amazing how fast three little people can trash a room.
The laundry is never done. And I don’t understand this because I wash clothes constantly. But there is always a pile to fold on our bed, buckets waiting to be put away in the kid’s room and dirty baskets waiting to go downstairs. Never. Ending. Laundry. Which makes me dread the day the kids are in sports and going through even more outfits in a day.
I hate sippy cups. My kids are thirsty all day and every time they want a drink, the cup I gave them earlier is gone. Like stuck under the couch becoming a solid mass of milk that makes me want to vomit kind of gone. And when I leave a cup like that in the sink b/c I HATE opening them when I can feel the weight that is solid milk, and Chris gets to the dishes before me he acts like I did it on purpose just to stick it to him. Right. Because I don’t deal with nastiness all day long in some manner.
Parker is sick. She was tested on Tuesday for H1N1 and it came back negative. But she has to be tested again tomorrow b/c she’s not getting better. And what I need to do is hold her in my lap and watch movies with her all day. But of course if I did that then Grayson would throw cars in the toilet, find the bleach and color on the walls. So I chase after him, try to remember about her, try to take care of clients, attempt to answer phone calls and emails and of course because I have so many other things going on I forget she’s so sick and all I hear is her whine. Nails on a chalkboard all day and night would be nicer to listen to then her voice when she’s sick and crabby. Not to mention the constant meltdowns. Because everything IS a big deal when you’ve had 103+ fever for 5 days. I’d be ticked off at the world too. But I forget to just hold her and cater to her and instead I find myself yelling at her to stop whining. Which makes me feel like total crap.
Tonight I am crabby. Can you tell? And what is so sad is that I think I came to a realization in the midst of all my bitching.
I like being busy.
I think I actually crave it.
The rush of lots of sessions, running here and there. I love it. And I’m more productive when I’m busy for some reason. On a day I know I have to run kids around, do a session and hit the cleaners I somehow also find time to blog and change laundry and empty the dishwasher and dust the living room. And on days, like today, when I barely left the house at all and did not change my clothes I got very little accomplished. It’s as if without a massive and pressing TO DO list I am a slug. A sloth. Sitting on the couch watching my shows. Doing nothing.
And the most ironic thing (if I’m using the word ironic right b/c I get it wrong a lot I think) is that when I am my most busy I just crave these at home days. But with well kids.
The grass is always freaking greener isn’t it?
So in the midst of my super crab fest I want to record, for posterity, that Bailey learned how to snap today. And I want to remember how cute she sounds when she says “upside over” instead of “upside down”. Or how Parker asks to do art projects all day long, even with 103 fever. And I never want to forget the chubbiness that is Grayson right now. Or how he still loves to cuddle. The feeling of that soft little cheek against mine gets me every single day. I want to remember how sweet Bailey is when she tries to take care of everyone. Or when Parker cries and Grayson finds Sheep and takes it to her. Or when Parker looks up and tells me she loves me.
I try so desperately to love these days. Life with three little ones at home with me most of the time. But my passion for my work has my mind other places lots of times. And the monotony that makes up the life of a mom; chores and laundry and changing diapers and baths and books and meals… it drives me insane sometimes. But I’m trying my best. Not every day. Because sometimes I just need to bitch and complain and wallow in my mommy-blues. But I usually wake up the next morning feeling better.
And I’m hoping tomorrow is one of those days. Better. More productive. Happier. Joyful.