The not so perfect and oh so tired. & Day 62. 303 Days Left.

The problem I see with a lot of Facebook posts and an overwhelming majority of blogs is this: People only ever talk about the 1% of things that are perfection. Perfect pictures, edited as such, perfect posts about a perfect meal (not mentioning the fact that you’d fed your kids cereal for breakfast, snacks for lunch and leftovers for dinner the five days up to leading that), how positive and perfect you're feeling, turning illness into a great learning opportunity, talking about how great your kids are when we all know they're driving you up the wall more often than not, the highlights of a trip that leave out the fact you have to stop at every other rest stop for a pee “non-pee” break, the fact that your one year old vomited all over the car seat & himself while in protest to the length of the drive, the screaming over who gets to watch what DVD and the never ending “are we there yet” from a three year old.

Typically, I try to be honest in my posting. I’d hate to make someone feel bad by getting a less than realistic view of my life and think I’m anything close to perfect. I’m not.

Yes, like others, I do have good days, some really good days and the occasional “wow, my kids are really great and made this day easy” days. And yes, I do post about those days. But for the most part my days, as a stay at home mom, are about same.

With that being said, I Am Tired.

Exhausted really.

Correction, Fucking Exhausted.

I am tired because I basically have not slept in four years. Yes, Addison is three but I do count the 10 months I spent incubating her. She gets up every night to pee, and although it is nice that I do not wake up to a wet bed, most mornings, it would be even lovelier if she just went in on her own and went back to bed, instead of waking me up and requiring a chaperon for what is definitely a one-person job. When she is not waking to pee, she is coming into our bed complaining screaming about her legs, feet and knees hurting. I understand growing pains are excruciating but this goes on for two hours. The entire time I pray she does not wake Jackson. On the nights she is not waking, Jackson takes over. Teething. Diaper changes. Something. Always something.

Before you anti-complaining, sugar-coating mommies mention it- I am fully aware these are the responsibilities I signed up for when becoming a mother. I get it. None the less, the thought, most days, does not make my job any easier…

I am tired because, as usual, Addison was literally in. my. face at 7am asking when I was going to make breakfast, cause she's "really, really hungry." Probably because she barely ate her dinner do to the fact she "wanted peanut butter and jelly” for the one millionth time.

I am tired because, all before 8:00 am this morning, I made three meals for two children (two for Jackson because the first he threw to the dogs), each with its own variation, each with a different beverage, and each with a lot of whining. I cleaned up vomit of various types, cat, dog and Jackson’s. I had to wash and change a crib because Jackson vomited all over it and himself. I unloaded a dishwasher and loaded the breakfast dishes.

I am tired because my kids fight every second of every day. They fight over everything. And Nothing. At the same time. They are currently in two different rooms watching two different movies. It's bad parenting, but it affords me peace.

I am tired because it is a battle to get my kids to eat. Anything. So I offer Addison chocolate milk and Jackson a bottle so they feel somewhat full. Obviously not going for mother of the year. I choose my battles.

But, despite all of this, it is safe to say that I am not nearly as tired as Jackson.

Who would not be falling asleep during lunch had he taken a nap when I put him down.
_________________________________________________________________
Day 62
Snack Time- Watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse