Pressure

Whew. Kids are in bed, school clothes are either laid out or tumbling in the dryer, back packs are clean and packed with the essentials and, most important part...sitting by the door so that we can't forget them in the morning. Lunches are partially packed for all three kids, since I have a doctors appointment tomorrow and Jace and Seth will spend the early afternoon with my mom. Notes are written, new school hair cuts are finished, and I have done absolutely nothing to celebrate Labor Day.

John just left to after a few hours hanging out with the kids to attend his own Labor Day cookout, and I won't lie...part of me is mentally railing against how him getting to go to a party when I am home with the kids, organizing math worksheets and driving myself crazy over last minute school details, is fair. But then again, living like you're single when you're married with four kids and a fifth on the way, eating out and working jobs where you actually interact with adults and then go back to your own private room in a house miles from your kids where they can't wake you up 37 times a night, leaving someone else to figure out all the details of your entire life and finances isn't quite fair, either. In fact, there are several other words I could think of to describe that behavior.

But we won't go there. 


I mean, he does offer to give the kids a ride to school if they need it, so that should make up for everything else, right? Of course, I don't need him to give them a ride, so that's a convenient offer. I do need several other things, but those aren't offers that are on the table. Also convenient. Always offer the things that aren't actually needed.

Oh wait, sorry. I guess I forgot we weren't going there. Or maybe we are. I'm apparently not in control of this post.

Anyway. Today has been challenging. There was a moment, when everything was clean, the kids were watching a movie, and the dogs were sleeping, when it all seemed ok, when the memories of all the years of cookouts and things we would have otherwise been doing today were not pounding through my head. Holidays are the worst. Even random ones. Any day when families generally do things together basically sucks.

But then, I carried Seth into his room and I saw how the hallway was completely trashed when an hour before it had been spotless. Then I went to change Seth's diaper only to find he'd had an incredibly blowout and I hadn't even noticed, and as soon as I unsnapped his diaper, his hands went immediately to the area, his diaper and onesie and shorts were all saturated with poop, his hands were grabbing and he was cracking up, and I didn't have enough hands to keep his hands from the disaster zone and hold him on the table and grab a wipe, and when I finally figured it out, I realized there were no wipes.

You have got to be kidding me. 


A mobile baby covered in crap, rolling around, spreading it around, and nothing to clean it up. A hallway, covered in random plastic detritus masquerading as sentimental toys. The night I had last night, when both big kids ended up on the couch with me, which was not fun, to say the least. and just when I got rid of them, Seth woke up screaming his head off. Heartburn. No one to pass anyone off to. No one to take a turn cleaning up after them...

This is not my life. Is this really my life?


It's funny, because it's not even like John was every around much to help. But I got to talk to him throughout the day, complain and get sympathy, have him tell me I was good at what I did. And I would see him at night, have a person to decompress and hang out with. Now I have...me. My mind races and I can't fall asleep, and when I do, if one of the kids wake me up, it's all over. Instead of calming down, getting to vent and debrief with someone, I just get myself all worked up, end up bawling over a baby having a blowout and a messy hallway. End up yelling at the kids when I don't mean to, seeing the looks on their faces when they're overwhelmed by my stress. I want to say screw it, we'll clean up later, let's go do something fun right now, but I can't, because I know no one else is going to do it for me, and if I don't do it now, it's just going to be worse later.

I want to get to be the fun one sometimes. I never get to be fun. 


I'm jealous of my own husband in a way, for getting to waltz in and out when he wants, getting to be the one the kids fall all over themselves in excitement to see. The way he can just come in, do his time and feel like he has fulfilled his duty, and go back to what has become his real life. I don't get to do that, separate my family life from my personal life. Every second is the kids, or Seth, or this new baby. I wouldn't trade places with him, no matter how carefree his life feels right now, only see my kids for a few hours a few times a week, but that doesn't mean it doesn't mean it wouldn't feel really nice to be the one at a cook out right now, relaxing and off duty.

I'm just tired. Over tired. Dreading how many wake ups there will be tonight. Wondering if my alarm will go off in the morning and if we will get out the door in time, if the kids will be fed and dressed and I remember all the little things they need for school. I just hate all the pressure being on me alone. If I mess up, it's just on me. There's no we, no doing our best...just me, doing my best, not sure, on days like this if that's good enough.


On an unrelated note, I'm watching Full House, and it's the episode where Jesse mixes up the twins. I am actually very concerned about whether or not one fictitious twin is going to go through life as his brother. And vice versa. Also, John Stamos is so hot.