Well, I woke up this morning realizing that last night was the first night I didn't cry myself to sleep about my dad. I don't even remember falling asleep. I closed my eyes and out I went. Oh well, progress I guess...
I was able to go to a baby shower for my good friend this morning. I took Parker with me and Gracen stayed with my mom. Of course, before I walked out the door, my mom asked me when I would return because she "really had to get home to do stuff". So as usual, I ran up the road and back down the road again without a sense of "time" in between. It was good to see my friends. My neatly, beautifully put together friends who always have every hair in place, skinny jeans and boots on, and perfect make-up. Now, don't get me wrong. They are the kindest people ever and have never made me feel anything but wonderful and beautiful. It's me....in my rocket dog shoes, Gap jacket, and khaki pants that makes me feel inferior. It was great to see them, but I walked away feeling down. Then I felt even more down as I crammed some McDonald's fries into my mouth, knowing that when I got home, it would be the great race again....feed Parker (and Gracen because mom didn't feed her to my surprise), change the diapers, put Gracen on the potty, find the ice cream truck cow in the bottom of the toy box (yes, you heard me correctly), look around this mess and think about where to begin, get everyone ready for naps, etc.
In addition, I was invited for a girls night out tonight which I can't go to because my husband is working on the boat. Now, he did have the "perfect solution"...I would take them down to his mom's house where she could watch them and then pick them back up afterwards. Well, no offense, but all you moms out there know how it is, right? Pack the kids up....pjs, etc....head out to dinner---at dinner worry about getting back to get them---go back to get them, bring them home (maybe bathed and maybe not), they get into bed late....you see where this is going. It's not even worth it at that point. I need an in house baby-sitter...someone who can bathe them here and put them to bed here so I come home to a quiet house and sleeping babies.
ANYWAY.
I'm ranting. I can't even go back and look at that post because I'm sure it's full of misspellings and horrible punctuation oh well. All I know is that my mom says, "This is how it is. You have to sacrifice to be with your kids." I don't believe you have to be miserable while doing that. I'm a working woman. I'm not used to this, and that's OK. My mom never liked her jobs so she doesn't get it. That's OK too. I just can't live like this--broke with no sense of purpose.
No comments:
Post a Comment