Not the kids this time, but me. I had a meltdown – a mommy meltdown that is. I had enough this morning and went upstairs and cried and cried. And then I decided that I’m going on strike. At least for tonight. (One plus – I didn’t yell at the kids! I went upstairs before I got that far.)
There’s days like today where I just want to give up. On keeping up the house, that is. I’m just done. It’s like quicksand and I can’t win. I spend hours scrubbing floors, vacuuming, folding laundry, etc. (the list is nearly endless as you well know!) only to have to do it all over again.
I wash the dishes – there’s a dozen more as soon as I finish. I do the laundry – the cat decides to pee on my towels in my doorless bathroom cupboard (spellcheck says doorless isn’t a word, but I say it is!) and I have to do another load. I finish that load – Joshua misses his aim for the toilet, gets pee all over himself, the toilet, and surrounding floor. (I still don’t know how he managed that one.) And on it goes.
We have ONE bathroom, in our household of six people, and that doubles as my laundry room. It does NOT work.
There’s Luke. He’s the sweetest, cutest kid, but there’s a reason we call him the “Tornado.” He’s into EVERYTHING. He splashes the dog water bowl all over the kitchen floor (again) and while I’m cleaning that up, he’s trying to scale my kitchen cupboards to reach the sliced bread on the counter that Nathan left out. I’m not kidding – the kid is a monkey. He climbs up everything now. As soon as I stop him and go back to the dog water mess, then he’s climbing on the kitchen table to shred Emily’s drawing (that she left out), and dump Joshua’s cup of water. I take him out of the kitchen, put the gate up, only to realize that he’s in the bathroom putting Emily’s swim suit into the toilet. I could go on, but I won’t.
Joshua needs speech therapy. I’ve just sent in a request to our school district to get him evaluated. He turned three in June and he talks plenty, but we can’t understand him most of the time. It’s gotten so frustrating for all of us (including him.) I can’t help feeling that he would be a really happy easy-going kid if he could just communicate what he wants.
I’m frustrated that my bathtub is so disgusting (a bad caulk job that Nate still hasn’t fixed 7 years later) that I can’t accept a bathtub toy review that I would really love to do. I have no idea how to fix it or I’d try it myself.
The other big reason for my little “mommy meltdown” earlier is that I’m stressed about my surgery in September. I hate the thought of being “down” for possibly a month or more. Hopefully it won’t take that long for me to recover, but I keep hearing all these stories about being completely exhausted for months afterwards. Granted, I’m already exhausted as it is…
Okay, so this is really a pity party post. But I feel better having gotten that all out.