Dear Diary,
I’m exhausted. Truly I am, and I don’t see a reprieve anywhere in sight!
Today alone, I’ve officiated a goldfish funeral, compiled paperwork for a tax audit, cleaned up cat puke, breastfed the baby six times, wrote three articles for work, hosted my (tongue-clucking) mother-in-law for lunch, and played Little People for two hours. And it’s only three o’clock!
Yesterday was even worse! I took both kids to the pediatrician for checkups, where the nurse and I spent twenty minutes trying to find two-year-old Rose because she ran and hid once she heard that she was getting a vaccine. This was followed by having to hold her down, with her screaming as if her arm were being amputated. At Mommy and Me, where I was paying $25 because I have two kids in the class, both girls sat in the corner refusing to participate—Rose because she was “so injured,” and eleven-month-old Grace because her sister was doing it.
The tub is filthy from their baths yesterday because while painting at the easel in the back yard, they mixed all the colors together, then had a fit because everything was brown. I will have to clean the tub before bathing them tonight, and I myself haven’t had a shower in three days!
My hair is disgusting, not only because it’s unwashed, but also because I haven’t had it colored in over a year due to pregnancy and breastfeeding. It now consists of three colors: My natural colors of dark brown and grey, with the faded out lighter brown on the ends from when I used to color it. My clothes don’t fit and I refuse to buy new ones because I absolutely plan to lose all this baby weight, which you would think I’d have lost by now, being that there is barely any food in the house because it’s so much work to food shop with a baby and a toddler.
My husband is working long hours in order to support this family of ours, and while he does help in the evening, I need that time to return my phone calls and get some work done for what’s left of my formerly-successful career.
As I said, I’m exhausted. Every bone in my body aches and I am so tired, I could literally lie down in the middle of the aisle at Wal-Mart and take a nap, if only I wasn’t worried that they’d cart me off to the funny farm. Then again, maybe that would be a good idea! Maybe not the funny farm, but a hospital would be great! I could lie in bed watching TV and eating nonfat ice chips. If I needed something I could press a button and a nurse would come and plump my pillows! People would bring me flowers and magazines, and I could laze around, recuperating, and indulging in the occasional Jell-O!
Unfortunately, I don’t think it will be covered under our insurance. Which would then cause more paperwork for me, not to mention expense, resulting in my husband having to work even more, which would make me have to work even more, which would not be helpful at all.
Don’t worry, I’m not hysterical. Okay, I am hysterical. But it’s fine, really it is. Somehow each day goes into the next and I manage to get through it all. Sometimes there are even good days! They’re just hard to think of at a time like this.
I wrote this article for Good Humor Girl.
(If you enjoyed the style of this article, you might enjoy my novel, “Momnesia,” too!)
