As a parent, especially a stay-at-home parent, we make the choice to sacrifice the majority of our social lives, or really lives at all to take care of the miniature humans we have spawned. This can wreak havoc on an adult brain in numerous untold ways.
Maybe it’s that we don’t trust babysitters, maybe we see our children as an extension of ourselves and can’t bear to be away from them, or maybe we’re just too cheap to pay someone to come in and take over for a few short hours.
If you don’t have close family to rely on, i’ve found that parents don’t get out very often.
In my case? It’s hardly at all. And for a mixture of all of the above reasons.
I love my kids, that doesn’t even need to be said, but it also doesn’t need to be said that they drive me ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE. Being stuck in a house with them (especially during the blistering hot or cold days where it’s irresponsible to let them run around like lunatics in the yard so when they come back in they STFU) every day all day, every year all year… it leaves me BEGGING and JUMPING at opportunities to get out.
please… for the love of all that is holy… rescue me!
But being that I have become nearly a complete hermit and lazy homebody since squeezing out my young, I don’t have much of a social life to go back to when that urge takes over, so typically i’m shit out of luck.
And being that i’m so damn paranoid about babysitters and having them attempt to handle Parker and the thought of him missing out on an entire meal, when the opportunity presents itself once every few months, it’s never with Thomas. He is the one who has to stay home with the kids, because while he totally sucks at feeding Parker and has the patience of the children he’s watching, I know at least he’s dealt with it before.
So then the day finally comes. I’ve made plans, i’ve convinced Thomas to take care of the kids by himself (usually by telling him that he gets out of the house for 8 hours a day 5 days a week, even if it’s WORK, it’s child free)… and for some reason I become apprehensive about the whole thing.
Ehhh do I really want to go out?
Wouldn’t it be more fun to stay home and watch tv?
It’s just such a hassle to get ready and go out
I have to wake up early in the morning, is this worth it?
All kinds of excuses I make for myself not to go, I never use them, but they are always running through my head- and once i’ve FORCED myself out of the house, what is the only thing on my mind?
Yep. I beg and plead, and would probably lie cheat and steal just to get some time away from them- and then once I am all I want to do is go home like a 7 year old at their first slumber party who wet the bed.
I suck at having a life.
Tonight I am getting my hair done for the first time in months because it was the only appointment my stylist had open. Usually I go with Saturday during the day, where I can ditch the kids with Thomas during nap time and not have it be any kind of big deal, but this time around it wasn’t going to happen and I either had to take this shit and run with it or let my roots show and split ends go wild.
Trust me when I say that getting my hair done is a necessary evil, even if it means leaving the kids with Thomas during their most insane hours of the day, and having to panic about the 3 of them killing each other or blowing up the house.
I guess it’s another one of those things you can chalk up to becoming a parent.
“You know you’re a mom when you beg to go out but can’t bear to leave the kids”
It’s likely that by the time I have no apprehension about leaving them for the reasons I have now, I will then have to worry about leaving them and having them throw a fucking party in my absence.
It looks like i’m staying home FOREVER.
my life. pic.twitter.com/qLhD6ISx7p
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