family, Marriage, motherhood, parenthood

Days In, Days Out

Days all feel the same.

Making sure kids don’t get hurt. Making sure they’re fed. Trying to make sure they’re getting sleep. Trying to find the middle ground between screaming at them and letting them become more independent. Trying to care about work enough to make sure shit gets done, but also make sure you’re not stressing about work too much to the point where it’s taking away from your ability to parent. Actually making sure you’re doing enough work to make sure you feel you’re actually earning that paycheck and you’re not doing too much that you don’t think your paycheck is enough. Making sure you’re doing something for your husband that makes him know you love him, but also making sure you don’t actually emasculate him or berate him with your words when you’re upset or frustrated. Making sure your husband actually feels like an equal partner in this parenting thing and life thing rather than just being in it for the ride. Making sure your parents are happy. Making sure you’re being respectful and not too big of a brat. Making sure your parents feel like they’re valued and know that they are loved and that we are grateful for everything, but also trying to mold your own identity as a parent, wife, and person. Making sure you’re keeping in touch with friends even though you never see them. Making sure you’re doing enough for your kids that you’re not messing them up psychologically or emotionally for life.

There’s just so much noise. So much noise in my head and I can’t sometimes. I can’t think. I can’t function. I can’t tune them all out. All the days are the same and blend in together.

“How are you?”

I have absolutely no fucking idea. 

Advertisements
Standard
family

Why are the nights so short?

The days seem never-ending and the nights seem so fleeting. I think I watched 2.5 episodes of Rizzoli and Isles, did some work, took out some trash, and did some Sudoku.

What I really meant to do was.. watch an episode or two or Rizzoli and Isles, do some yoga or read a book, do devotions, and go to sleep early.

But here I am. 1220am. Letting Hulu lapse into the next episode of Rizzoli and Isles while mini-ranting on WordPress. Head muddled with way too much murkiness of my life. Living with family is always nice. We used to always live with family. We had a.. posse, if you will. We had a neighborhood we could fall back on. A community related by blood. But with our independence and our need to prove ourselves and find ourselves, family seems to be just a hindrance. How can we find out who we truly are and what we are capable of when we are constantly reminded of our past? Especially if that past does not hold the fondest of memories. Not the worst, just.. not the fondest.

Am I destined to repeat my parents’ lives? I would really rather not. But how can I break away from it when I am constantly immersed in it?

We really need to move out on our own.

Standard
family, Marriage, motherhood, parenthood

Be All You Can Be

All I can be is…. one thing. One persona. I can’t be a great parent, a great wife, and a great daughter. I can be maybe one great and mediocre other and a failure at the last. Some days, I’m a great daughter, a mediocre parent, and a failure of a wife. Others, I’m a great wife, mediocre parent, and a failure of a daughter.

Living with parents just makes things that much harder. Not only do you have to take into account your kids’ lives – keeping them alive, making sure they’re happy, making sure you’re not ruining them from life – and make sure your relationship with your husband is on not-resenting-each-other-still-loving-each-other-terms, you have to take into consideration your parents’ lives. Their emotions. Their decisions. Their relationships with you. Their relationships with your kids. Then on top of that, you have your friendships you have to try to keep track of. You have school work. You have work work. You have your futures to think about. You have to worry about everything and everybody at the same time all the time.

My head is about to explode. I can’t get a minute alone to myself. Even when I do get a minute to myself, my mind is always there. Always worrying, always thinking, always on edge. I’m just so tired. So stressed. It’s become my norm. Tired and stressed. Maybe this is why people just trudge on with their lives after marriage and kids. Just existing. There just isn’t much room for yourself in your mind.

Standard
family, motherhood, parenthood

Fickle, My Heart

The songs I loved yesterday no longer bring me that same spark of excitement.

I wonder why my mood changes so drastically. I could blame it on the hormones. I could blame it on the exhaustion. I could blame it on the kids. I could blame it on the stress of living with my parents. I could even blame it on the overwhelming amount of stimuli I am surrounded by on a daily basis.

But I think there may be something a tad bit unbalanced within me. It’s the same imbalance that takes me to the highest of elation tops but also drags me down to the darkest of those murky depths.

Or it’s the dehydration from all the coffee I’ve been chugging.
Who knows?
All I know is that I feel a little off.
And I may have been feeling a bit off for a little while now and I keep thinking it’ll get back to normal.. until I realize I don’t recognize what my “normal” is anymore.
Hashtag “MomLife”?
Hashtag “WhatIsMyNormal”
Hashtag “WTFAmIDoingWithMyself”

Standard
family, Marriage, parenthood, Religious

The Daily Mudslide

I actually made a list of things to do and things I’d like to keep up with – devotions, work, working out, and packing Nick’s lunch. The only thing I actually kept up with was work. I did devotions for a good 8 day streak and failed miserably after the holiday. I worked out once within the entire two weeks I tracked myself. I also packed lunch for the hubby once during the tracking period. Granted he didn’t work three times out of the two weeks – one was a holiday and the other was a Sunday.

I just feel like I’m climbing a muddy hill. Every time I feel like I’m getting a grip, I slip. Every time I feel like I’m doing okay, I slide right back down, and I struggle to get a handle on things to get back on track.

I even had a few motivation post-its on my little tracking sheet, but that didn’t really help. I wish I had a partner that I could share this with; that I could work through this with. Someone who would push me. Someone who would motivate me.

I know I should turn to God in this time when I feel like I’m alone, but it’s definitely tough when you’re surrounded by people and you feel like you should be feeling supported and motivated and loved through them but come up empty. My last devotions was actually about turning to God when you felt alone or when you’re feeling like your cup is empty. “[Look to Him to fill your cup when you are feeling empty]” – total paraphrasing.

I just need to keep going.

Take the pressure off yourself to do everything and be everything. YOU ARE ENOUGH. 

Standard
family, parenthood

Expectations VS Reality

I’m following someone from my past who just recently had a baby. She had a difficult birth and since her first wasn’t the ideal birth she envisioned, the second was a bit harder to handle it seems since she had all these expectations of what and how she wanted it to be the second time around. She’s very much immersed into the whole motherhood and body thing where she’s all about being in tune with her body during her whole pregnancy and is very into the whole natural birthing wonder of the human body. Her baby had some difficulty after birth and had to spend a few weeks in the NICU. I know she’s probably just venting on Facebook, a space where she’s surrounded by friends and family and a wonderful support group, but as an acquaintance who also went through some difficulty after birth, it’s a tad frustrating to read through these comments of what she thought things would be like and how they are supposed to be and how disappointed and frustrated she is with reality. Like, we get it. You can’t spend the time you want with your older son in this beautiful weather because your little one is taking up so much of your time. I get what it’s like to be cooped up at home and not get some fresh air because you’re just busy with a baby whose sole mission in its little life so far is to make you miserable and hate yourself with inconsolable crying. I get that life was difficult and disappointing and nothing like you imagined it when your baby was in the NICU and whisked away from you after birth. BUT YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE. I think I’m more sensitive to her postings because I went through it too, but never venting about it on Facebook and only a few close people know about Shane and his struggles. I think I’m just annoyed because I feel as though she has all these expectations about how motherhood should be – the adorable hours of intoxicating baby smells and cuddles, the dreamy closeness you get when you’re breastfeeding, and the magical feeling you get when you’re baby wearing and able to function in public with the use of both your hands. BUT THESE ARE NOT EVEN REAL EXPECTATIONS. THESE ARE EXPECTATIONS CULTIVATED BY THE MEDIA AND SOCIETY. YOU AREN’T DOING ANYTHING WRONG IF YOU’RE SPENDING DAYS AT HOME WITHOUT SHOWERING BECAUSE YOUR BABY WON’T STOP CRYING FOR LONGER THAN 10 MINUTES IN STRETCHES OF HOURS. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO MISS OUT ON BONDING MOMENTS IF YOU DON’T BREASTFEED. YOU DON’T NEED TO FEEL LIKE SHIT IF YOU PUT YOUR OLDER CHILD UP IN FRONT OF A TV WHEN YOU’RE CARING FOR A BABY OR IF YOUR CHILD FALLS IN THE PLAYGROUND AND YOU’RE NOT THERE IN TWO SECONDS TO PICK HIM UP BECAUSE YOUR HANDS ARE FULL WITH ANOTHER BABY. YOU’RE NOT A FAILURE BECAUSE OF ANY OF THIS. WE’RE ALL JUST SURVIVING. WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO GET AS MUCH SLEEP AS WE CAN WHILE WE TRY TO FIND OURSELVES IN THIS NEW ROLE AS A MOTHER (OF MULTIPLES). WE’RE ALL TRYING TO FIND A SWEET SPOT WHERE WE TEETER ON THE BRINK OF HAPPINESS/SANITY AND COMPLETE, UTTER MADNESS.

I’m just tired. And annoyed.
All I really have to do is UNFOLLOW.

I am actually really happy for her. She has a wonderful social media following and feels comfortable enough to share all her worries on her page. Some days I wish I had that. Others, I am just grateful for the support system I have now.

Standard
family, parenthood

Different Day, Similar Shit

Wake up. See who’s awake (spoiler – most days, both are). Check diapers. Change diapers. Shower. Bring babies down. Bottles. TV show of the day (Cat in the Hat, Octonauts, Phineas and Ferb). Make coffee. Drink coffee. Sift through emails and go through voicemails for work. Snack / lunch (bananas, cheese, sandwich, more milk, yogurt). NAPS. I get some work and paperwork and organizing of the life done. Then – home stretch – the grandparents and the daddy come home. Dinner. Bath. Mosey until bedtime.

MODIFIED SCHEDULE:
INSTEAD OF NAPS… Now, Dom naps while Shane rolls around the couch and living room munching on some snacks while half watching a TV show. Eventually his random shouts of excitement wake Dom up who in turn is brought downstairs if I am unable to put him back to sleep. Shane is left upstairs to nap. After a few minutes of protesting and crying, he goes quiet and passes out. Dom then is left to run around the living room requiring my constant attention until Shane eventually wakes up. Then both are rolling around the living room cranky and upset because they are both tired.
INSTEAD OF SMOOTH BATH TIMES… Since we have begun the exciting adventure of potty training, there have been multiple accidents in the potty both from the young one and the one we are attempting to potty train. Thus draining of the water, cleaning of the tub, rinsing of the babies, and re-filling the tub has been a frequent process.

Literally the same fights, the same conversations, the same everything. Just different days. Slightly different adventures. I’m just so freaking tired of repeating myself over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. And, yes, I know they’re just kids and that’s my job as a parent to reinforce the same things over and over and over again since that is how they learn. But I’m seriously losing my freaking mind. How many more days do I have to say “Toothbrush is for brushing teeth, not toilet” and “No kicking Mommy during diaper time”? I’m so over it most days. There is no coffee strong enough to fuel this shit.

Standard