Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Some Parenting Realness

Anyone who has read this blog knows I'm a big fan of transparency and honesty. I've shared my struggles with postpartum depression, the hardships of publishing, etc., in the hope that my stories could help other people feel less alone on their darker days.

Which is why I wanted to repost something here that I initially shared on Instagram. It's from a day when parenthood was simply kicking my ass. All I wanted was to crawl back into bed and stay there.
Of course, that wasn't an option.

Why am I sharing this? Because in a world in which social media is carefully curated to show only the highlights of a person's life, it's easy so easy to compare ourselves to others, and constantly come up short.

But life his hard. Parenthood is hard. Some days kids are downright assholes. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, we're assholes right back. We have moments when we wonder what the hell made us think we were qualified to rear a decent human being.

A lot of the time, we are just tired.

And on those days, it's nice to find someone who can relate. It's comforting to hear I've been there too.

Well. I have been there. On many, many an occasion. Here's one of them:

I could write a cute caption that sounds like we're just outside enjoying an unusually mild summer day in GA, but I'm gonna be real for a minute: this kid is driving me nuts today.

I woke up at 6:15 a.m., still tired. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. Except my son woke up at 6:30, so that didn't happen. My husband brought him into the living room (which is on the main level of the house, right around the corner from our bedroom) and put on a movie he'd DVR'd the night before. We climbed back into bed and tried to sneak in some more rest. Except that every time commercials came on, the little guy ran into our room asking us to fast forward for him, even though he knows how to do it himself. We asked him to get in bed with us and relax for a bit, because we were just so tired. He told us "I DON'T WANT TO."

And thus the tone was set for the day ahead.

Today has been one of those days when no activity keeps him occupied longer than a few minutes, especially if it doesn't involve his father or me. I accidentally elbowed him in the head at least 3x while folding laundry, because that's how closely he's orbiting. Everything is an argument. If we can't stop what we're doing and entertain IMMEDIATELY, he purposely touches/does things he knows he's not supposed to just to get our attention.

I thought I'd finally get a break by sending him outside with bubbles and sidewalk chalk. I really didn't want to, because it gets hot as a mofo in Georgia, and I didn't want to have to slather him in sunblock, or later bathe the sweaty, gross mess he would undoubtedly make of himself. So I made him promise to take his toys and stay on our patio, in the shade.

Except the minute I settled my exhausted self onto one of the couch cushions and pulled a blanket up over my shoulders, he opened the door yelling that he needed to go potty. And um, it was not just pee. Which meant I had to report for butt-wiping duty. Now, keep in mind that I'd asked him if he needed the potty 5 minutes earlier, and he told me no. So, the couch and I parted ways. In my son came, and then back out he went.

I should mention that I gave him a special Mr. Potato Head holder for his chalk so he could draw without turning his hands 50 different colors. Only he somehow found a way to use the holder to SHRED the chalk instead. Within minutes, his clothes, hands, feet, and our patio table were covered in chalk dust, AND he'd poured bubble soap in his hair. Which meant he was definitely going to need the bath I was too tired to give him. And guess what else? He had to go potty AGAIN. (And I had to carry him there, b/c white carpet + chalk feet = NO)

Before and after I filmed this clip, he asked me for more bubble soap (even though the dish was full) no fewer than 16 times. When I refused for the 17th time to empty a 3rd bottle into the dish, he dunked his chalk in the soap and threw the chalk on the ground - but not before scribbling all over the table with it.

In summary, I am tired. My husband is tired. We both really needed a break today, a break that never came. And while I may be able to focus on the cute again tomorrow, today bedtime can not come fast enough. I am fried.

Can anyone relate? Feel free to tell me about the times you thought parenting just might do you in.