Wow. Today has been exhausting. I know I just posted something yesterday but I need to talk about today. I have no idea why things are so hard sometimes and sometimes I feel as if it is just me. Like I can’t seem to get a grip and handle this shit.

I came downstairs this morning and Gannon and Waverly were already fighting. Juniper got sprayed by a skunk. I felt like crap all day yesterday and it certainly didn’t help not sleeping great last night. I awoke with my head still splitting and my face still aching. The constant battling for day two was already more than I could take and Paul hadn’t even left the house yet. Waverly did not nap yesterday and today was the same. She refused to even settle down and was adamant about not sleeping. It didn’t much matter though because Egan would just start crying any time I set him down. He is still crying. Gannon fell off of the back of the couch and slammed his head on the floor. A few minutes later he fell and bit his tongue and was so upset about it he wouldn’t close his mouth preferring to drool all over himself as he cried. Waverly pulled his hair, hit him multiple times, scratched him, pinched him, threw a Lego bucket at his head, and pushed him off a footstool.  This was all before 11 am. Gannon was no saint during this ordeal, hitting her back and screaming and not moving away from her and instead just instigating trouble. I finally washed breakfast dishes at 3:00. I drank a second cup of coffee while listening to Bayside and swaying with the unbearable crying provided by Egan. As I write this, they are at the bottom of the stairs calling for me over and over again. I am ignoring them. I need to breathe for a moment in my own body, even if all I can smell is the spit up that is covering my shirt.


I could use a vacation from life at times and it makes me feel so guilty. I have this intense desire to have all of these days where I never lose my patience and can laugh and play with my children without wanting to pull my hair out.

I love them. Every second of the day. But sometimes I hate the days. I hate them so much I get more frustrated and more annoyed and more impatient and more angry and more cranky and less lovey. I get so much less lovey. I want to be MORE lovey on these days but there is nothing to love about them other than the fact that I am home with the kids and not sending them to be cranky around other people. This is not actually something I love, just something I am happy that I can provide them, even if it means telling them to shut up on occasion because I can not listen to another word for another second or I will absolutely lose my shit.

I blame winter mostly. I blame rain. I blame dogs irritating me and doing things dogs do. I blame the lack of showering. I blame the lack of clothes that fit. I blame never leaving the house to do anything other than bring them to gymnastics or go grocery shopping or to get them something for a holiday or birthday or whatever. I blame over stimulation on my introverted brain. I blame the disaster that is my unfinished house and the dirt on the floors I can’t keep up with and the marks all over the walls from them moving a side table I’ve asked them to stop moving 100 times.

I blame myself for not being strong enough. Not being woman enough. Not being mother enough.

I blame Paul for working and not being home to help me even though that is completely irrational.

I blame the kids for not knowing enough to take a fucking nap already because your eyes are so red I can not even stand to look at you because what mother can’t get their kids to take a fucking nap?

Today. Waverly screamed at me while eating a banana because she didn’t want a banana, she wanted hungry. Even though we have had the conversation with her every day for the last month or so that hungry is actually a feeling, not a thing, and we can provide her food to battle the hungry and things like bananas are in fact food but it just isn’t good enough of an explanation and she gets so mad that she can’t even breathe or hear me or stop screaming “hungry” over and over again until she realizes she wants whatever is in my hand. Hungry. I don’t even get it.

The happiest they were all day was about two hours ago when they played in the filthy dog crate. I just let them lock each other in the crate. It was quiet. It was peaceful. It was short lived but it was all I got all day.

Today. Today. Today.

I’m so ready for tomorrow.

2 thoughts on “Today.

  1. Being a stay at home mom is no easy task. However, you are more perfect than you realize. You are doing what your children need you to do, and that is being there for them. Hang in there Tristan, you’re doing a wonderful job with your beautiful babies. ❤

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