[Warning. This is another one of those posts where I whine. But I needed to write this and get it out of my brain. Sorry.]
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever feel good again. That sounded horrible. Let me explain. I feel as though my life is such that I am constantly at maximum stress level. I am at the beck and call of 3 very busy, very whiney, very silly children. I have to clothe, feed, wash, and keep said children alive. They have a real tendency to get sick, stay up all night crying about it, and throw up on me. I am to teach my children to be kind, responsible, Christian, and happy. I am also somehow supposed to keep it from looking like a bomb full of Macaroni and Cheese, vomit, barbies, crayons, peanut butter, and dirt went off and coated every surface of my home.
I can't keep up. I try to clean, but then Maggie needs something, then Will needs me to hold him, then Coleman needs a new diaper. I can't get anything done. I can't make anything. Or blog. Or be creative because I can't think in all the mess. Then I feel like a failure. Then I get depressed. I have panic attacks. Then I get help. Then I feel like I should do better because I feel better, so I try. But I still can't keep up.
I have headaches and leg aches nearly every day. I think my digestive system is jacked up. Unless alternating between constipation and the runs is normal (you do care about my bowels don't you?). I know that if I quit eating junk and started eating truly healthy real food (instead of the cookies I crave because of the stress I feel trying to do good for my kids) I would feel better. But I keep failing. When I exercise I love how I feel but then my legs ache and I'm super hungry. When I don't exercise I feel sluggish and tired. But my weight stays pretty much the same no matter what I do.
Now I'm sitting in my closet, hiding from my children because it's after 10 and I still can't get them to FALL asleep. I am spent. I don't feel well physically. I think my kids deserve so much more than I'm giving them. But I don't have more. Or do I?
I think in some ways the stress is good. It means that I recognize the important role I have as a wife and mother. It means that it matters to me. But I also think its rough. Really rough.