Wednesday, November 4, 2009

First world problem, and a first world syndrome.


Most days are OK. In the grand scheme of things, I do OK. I don't get too mad at the kids when they play up, act out or forget their homework in school. I take deep breaths and get on with things without snapping.

Some days are not so good.

The 2-year old will act out in play-group. He will snatch toys away from other children, or he will (it has happened) hit another boy over the head for no apparent reason. He will throw tantrums all day and nothing seem to be working to stop him. I try to diffuse the melt-downs by taking him to the playground or going for a walk, but if I'm unlucky it will only add to his frustrations and we will both end up feeling exhausted. Pick up time at school will be a nightmare because of road-works. I get there late and will miss curb-side pick up and will have to park and walk in to school and have to carry a hefty 2-year old three blocks and then back again. My back will be aching, my head will be pounding. My husband will call and tell me he'll be home late so I have to prepare dinner, help with home-work (while fighting off a jealous and attention-seeking boy from my leg), do night routine, bath routine, violin-practice, clean the rabbit hutch, tidy up and do reading with my daughter by myself. And through out this the kids will fight, argue, scream and cry. The noise level will be unbearable and I have not had a minute to myself all day. I feel exhausted, drained, un-attractive, tired and haggard, not to mention ugly and un-sexy. I'm in my mid-thirties but my body is aching like it had lived a 70-year long life.
Was this what I signed up for?
Exactly where, on the road towards starting my fabulous life did things go so horribly wrong?
Those are the days when I feel like packing a bag and just drive away from it all. Forget that I have a family. Forget that I am a mother, a wife and a person I don't really enjoy being anymore.

No, this was not what I signed up for, and yet, there seem to be no way out.
Dark days, indeed.

It doesn't seem to matter how much I try to cut down on our social life. I still feel stressed out to the point of breaking down. I have consciously not signed up the kids to too many activities. I turn down dinner and drinks invitations, and I make sure that the weekends are free from obligations, just so that we can rest, and recharge our batteries, yet it doesn't seem to be enough.
How much more can I cut down? There isn't anything else to cut from.

Is this a problem that only concerns mothers in the city? Would things get easier if we moved to small village in the country? Or do I just have to accept that this is it. My life as a broken down wreck of a thirty-something on a road to nowhere?

Dar, dark days, indeed.

I close my eyes and hope for a better, sunnier day tomorrow.

1 comment:

  1. What an honest, evocative post. I hear you. There are moments of bliss and moments that are very, very trying.
    You wrote that two years ago. I wonder what your perspective is looking back on those days!

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