Your calendar gets covered in pencil smudges. Handwriting gets smaller to fit more in each tiny box. You stare at all the comings and goings and wonder who keeps putting all this stuff in your calendar when you’re sleeping.
And meanwhile there’s a kid flitting in out of the room…..
Sign this permission slip. Can you proof this essay? It’s due tomorrow. I have a thing at school on Saturday and I volunteered you to help with lunch. Can you bring cookies too? Remember that so and so is allergic to peanuts. There’s also that kid that can’t eat dairy. Can I go roller skating on Friday? Why do I have to make my bed? There’s nothing for lunch (or dinner or breakfast) that looks good. When are you going to the grocery store? I don’t have clean pants. Can you get this smell out of my shoes. I need new shoes.
And the first thought that flies through your head – Leave. Me. Alone.
You count the hours till the kids are asleep. You’re the boss of those hours. You can go Gangnam style in the kitchen naked if you want to. But all hopes of letting the girls out to shimmy around like a teenaged rock star are over in a second cause the minute you sit down your eyelids slam shut tighter than a nun’s legs at Chippendale show.
As your kids get older: The sentences get longer. The demand for cash is higher. And the list of places to go and people to see seems endless. Essentially, they’re saying the same thing they said when they were 2: Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.
And you wonder who this Mommy person is. And why she doesn’t get off her duff to take care of these things that need taking care of. Then you realize – you be the Mom. And you’re screwed. All you want to do is find a spot – a dusty, cob web filled corner in the basement will do. Have a good cry. Pee without interruption. Take a friggin’ nap. Take a dirty fork to anyone who dares to interrupt your 5 minutes in Shangri La.
Forking people will only get you your own personal 6 x 6 time out spot. With a roommate built like Stallone, who goes by the name of Candy. With an “i”.
So here are a few reminders if you’re a tired mamma like me:
- Say No – shocker, I know. How many times have your heard that? How many time do you do it?
- Pack a bag and go. Alone – Take a road trip. Go to a movie. Go sit at a coffee shop. You’re allowed to have time to stretch out a bit. Your sanity may depend on it.
- Take a time out – My personal favorite. I wrote about it on Mama And Baby Love. Teach your kids to let you have 5 minutes every day. And then take them. Hide M & M’s in dark and dusty corners for them to find if you have to.
- Take the stick out – you know where you’ve got it stashed. At least if you’re a perfectionist overachiever like me. Pull it out fast. Like a band aid. Some crap won’t get done. We know. Just Watch. The world won’t’ tumble down.
- Go to bed: Seriously. Sleep is like a reboot for your body. Staying up late, when your brain is collapsing in on itself, to squeeze in a few more things, just leads to dodgy work. Tuck yourself in. You’ll be able to do Wonder Woman awesome in the morning.
What do you do when you’re on the brink of sticking a shiv in the next person to ask you for clean clothes?