Monday, May 25, 2009

Mom, interrupted. 3/2009

There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my kids. Sing songs, play games, jump up and down. You name it. Nice mom. Good mom. But sometimes, this other side of me comes out, for various reasons, but mostly lack of sleep, and I just don’t have patience any more. I just want to throw something, anything, at the wall. Bad mom. Weak mom.

As I write this, it is 1:30am, and I sat down to vent so I would NOT throw something and wake up the other umpteen people in my house. One of my sons has woken up repeatedly and it is my turn to get up with him. I used to ponder how much sleep I could squeeze in before the first blood curdling scream. Now I don’t even bother to try to get to sleep early when they go down for their first “night nap”. I clean the kitchen, play on Facebook a bit, and eventually saunter off to bed. Sure enough, as soon as my head hits the pillow, or when I actually feel like reading for a few minutes to distract me from my ever churning thoughts, “Waaaaahhhh!!” He is crying. UH-GEHN.

It is 11:30pm on the nose. At least the kid is consistent. It is a nightly ritual at this point. What the hell?!??! It is such a crapshoot as to whether or not he will go back to sleep. Is it so wrong to want a peaceful night of slumber? We have tried everything from getting him to eat more before bed, less before bed, late baths, early baths, filled bottles, less filled bottles, music, quiet . . . nothing seems to work. If we get lucky and can get him back to sleep before 2am, it feels like winning the lottery. (Ohh, the ear plugs and sound proof rooms I could build with THAT dough.)

Of course, being up at this hour means a quiet house, the TV all to myself, and no interruptions while writing (read: venting). But it also means that come daylight, I will have even less patience when the crying starts. AND. IT. ALWAYS. STARTS. By the day’s end I am so fried from hearing my three little darlings cry that I just want to hide. With seven people in our house, I think that will never again be possible. I adore them, don’t get me wrong. And they don’t cry all day long. It’s just that once in awhile it would be nice to be alone with my thoughts long enough to complete at least one. Even if they are in the same room. Do kids come equipped with built in radar? I can play with them for hours and have so much fun. But if I dare to talk on the phone or get a glass of water, it’s over. It seems they know just when to talk, cry, call out for you and interrupt an otherwise perfectly good moment. Huh, maybe one day they will be good waiters.

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