Life seriously has a twisted sense of humor.
I’ve been needing a break lately. A REAL break. Usually I get my hair appointments for that, but even those I’ve been scheduling around my kids’ school hours so I’ll still be able to pick them up per usual. Once they get home, they go bananapants from the moment they step in the door to the point when they go to bed (yes, even when they’re brushing their teeth). If I stay up too late after they’ve gone to bed just to get some quiet time to myself where I don’t really have any responsibilities nagging at me, I end up exhausted the next day, with even LESS patience than I already have to deal with them.
We have plenty of fun days, great conversations, lots of laughs- but everyone needs a break. Time to unwind, relax, regenerate– especially when it comes to raising tiny humans. It may not always be physically taxing, but it is always mentally exhausting.
Taking this time for ourselves, though, comes with a lot of baggage. From flaming hoops, hurdles, and roadblocks, to epic buttloads of guilt. Either we have to pay for a sitter, burden a family member (even if they don’t see it as a burden, we usually do), or rearrange things in pretty inconvenient ways to make it happen. Soooooooooo sometimes we don’t.
I have friends going on girls’ trips, vacations alone with their significant others, date nights out sans kids– and I’ve never been able to do ANY of those things. Am I bitter? Ehhhh, maybe a little, but we’re just not all dealt the same cards when it comes to childcare. Most days, all I can really do is
scream into a pillow hope to all hopes to get a break. Even if just an hour. Even if just to run a damn errand. GIMME! I NEEDS IT!
It appears that the powers that be smiled upon me, for they answered my desperate plea and gave me what all moms truly and desperately desire: A day in bed.
Yes, that’s right. Someone else took the kids to school. I got to sleep in until noon. I had food made and delivered to me. I only got up to use the bathroom. I had the entire bed to myself to sprawl out. No one disturbed me. It was everything I could ever dream of, except, of course, there was a catch.
In order to achieve the Holy Grail of motherhood, all I had to do was wake up with a fever of 104 degrees, unable to do anything but writhe and moan that I needed water and medicine, and all we had in the house was kiddie Tylenol. It was exactly what I wished for… only… y’know… not at all.
What I’m trying to tell you, fellow moms, is to BE CAREFUL! Because your dream might just come true, only it might look nothing like your dream at all. Murphy’s Law? Try Parent’s Law.
Get on it, oil people!! pic.twitter.com/xgXSB34uGf
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@AmericHousewife it's cute you think I'll survive to them turning that age!
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