Because the last two weeks have been a circus. Only there is no cotton candy and the lion tamer is me. Kid tamer.
The dishwasher decided to choke on the detergent and got a big F for effort as it half-heartedly sloshed it all over the dishes. I wonder how it knew that I LOVE hand washing. And not to be outdone, the washer quit last week and the only serviceman under our warranty will be unavailable until October 16th. Convenient. I'm not sure how to convey to them my need for my washing machine. Days before ours turned in its letter of resignation, I was literally dreaming about how lovely it would be to have two washers. Maybe it felt a sense of betrayal.
In all seriousness, it has hit the fan around here. I'm so tired, I am dreaming about sleeping at a hotel for a solid week. Nights have turned into my hours of reserved torture, and by morning, I can't even dream of bedtime, because bedtimes are so horrible. So I dream of aforementioned trip to the hotel. Then reality knocks.
It all came spilling out my eyes today, and later, it came out from somewhere within. Two hours, today. Two hours of this nap time battle with Luca. At some point, it came to the point where we both stared at one another through tear-filled eyes, me begging him to sleep. The no cry sleep solution worked I went to get balloons today and didn't have the presence of mind to determine transportation with a giant bouquet of balloons. You can imagine how this played out, except you can't, because I literally lost my mind in an embarrassing act that would have done a three year old proud. I popped three of them and with every subsequent burst, I cried a little harder as my children looked on, horrified. Shameful. The tears continued as I struggled to make them stop; I was absolutely humiliated that the balloons sent me over the edge and that I subjected my children to such a train wreck.
This exhaustion? It's paralyzing. It has stolen all shreds of patience and kindness and love, and I'm left with the inability to just do life in a pleasant manner. I have never known this level of sleep deprivation. I have faked it until I made it many times, and I'm beyond that point now. I have avoided friends and social obligations because I am sure I'll come off as a drunk, lunatic, or some combination that will likely be unwelcome at all future engagements.
As I tumbled down to what I can only hope was rock bottom today, I began reflecting on the things that have changed in life. We are busy. I don't like to overuse that term and I do like having things on the schedule, but it becomes a delicate balance...and a recipe for disaster in times like this. It's more than the exhaustion I can't catch up. There's this sense of dread when I start the day, because I have overfilled my plate, and I know that I can't possibly get everything done. I have a desire to please people, so I say yes. I fill my schedule with things for other people, on top of a life that I spend doing things for the people in my family. Do you know how many invitations I have for various events on my facebook at this very moment? NINE. I feel this sense of dread every time I get one!
We have places to be and deadlines to meet, and so often, I am guilty of hurrying my children along as we rush from one place to another. I move through things on autopilot, without a pause to be grateful, as I take in life around me. I can remember life where technology wasn't in the forefront. We lived for playing on the floor with Ruby, the milestones she hit, and there wasn't this sense of urgency in daily things like bath time, our bedtime routine, eating meals, and getting out the door.
Where is that life? Now, there is this pressure to GO GO GO GO GO and put your kid in all the activities so they can experience everything. Why? It's everywhere - this ungrateful, hurried, and absolutely draining way of living. It's in the mail, on the outside of envelopes - HURRY! DON'T MISS OUT! & LAST CHANCE!, it's on billboards and restaurants - HURRY IN TODAY! Don't know the answer to something? Google it RIGHT NOW. All of it creates this sense of panicked urgency.
This hurrying is a sickness. Hurrying life, feeling stressed in the meantime, missing out on the things that happened while you hurried, and for what? Time goes by quickly enough on its own! I know this so well. And while I certainly don't want this sleep situation to last for much longer, I also know that this is the last of babyhood. I can't wish this away, because as this fades into the background of my memory, so will the images of his sweet face that belong with it.
This week, I'm promising myself and my family to live for the small moments, the in between. I'm vowing to be patient, to breathe life in, rather than hurrying it along. If we arrive two minutes late with smiles on our faces, as opposed to two minutes early (or even two minutes late) after me shouting to get out the door, I'm calling it a win. There's a reason my kids don't hurry. They don't see the need, they haven't been tainted with this mindset that the world sells. Life is some marriage of crazy and beautiful, isn't it? It's crazy to me that this overwhelming feeling of tiredness won't even be on my radar in the years to come; likely, it will only be a shred of a memory in which I can't even accurately recall. With all of this hurrying comes missing out on things, things that I want to savor forever. Memories that aren't properly cataloged because I wasn't present.
I might still be exhausted tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, but I don't have to let it consume my attitude.
Next week, I will whittle my schedule to fit the priorities and nothing beyond. These years are fleeting. This life is fleeting. And if I keep hurrying, I'm going to miss it.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment