What the fuck happened to all the hours in a day? Before we unpack that one, I guess the first most logical question we should ask is, what the fuck did we USED TO DO with all the hours in a day BC? For those of you not familiar with acronym "BC", it stands for "Before Children". You remember, it was that time in your life when "Poopies" was not a topic of conversation you regularly had on a daily basis - excusing the pun of course.
It seems only fitting for the term "BC" to sound ancient because quite frankly it might as well be the Cretaceous period in my lifeline. Yes, it was only 5 years ago, but the silence and solitude that was no children seems like such a distant past, it is but a faint recollection, remembered only through the pouring over of Facebook memories searching for some sign that you once had a life. Turns out you did...it was amazing.
Now don't get me wrong - I love my children, we are blessed and I wouldn't trade my time with them for the world, they are my life. BUT - sometimes I miss just doing fucking nothing, or, doing everything with your free time, It was truly free time, it was your choice. It was glorious. And I so thought I was busy back then, that I had no time. I wish Current Me could go back and bitch slap Past Me - I was a dumb ass.
These days I make a good mental effort to try and wake up three days a week at 5:00 am to workout for 20 minutes. Key terms here are "try" and "three" - I have yet to 100% accomplish that weekly goal. The baby starts stirring at 5:15. On the good days when I can pacify him, I can get a short workout in. If not, or if I just need a bit more sleep because he had me up a few times overnight, I spend the rest of the day feeling like a lard - and then I eat the cupcakes someone brings into the office. Vicious circle.
Then, the day begins: Breakfasts, argumentative dressing (aka: 7 minute negotiation with a 4 year old regarding cowboy boots that are a couple sizes too big), gathering of all the daily shit required, getting out the door, daycare drop-off, traffic, full workday, traffic, day care pick-up and then activities.
Let's park here for a second - kid activities are a pain in the ass for the parent - why do we force our kids to do so many of them?! We are only punishing ourselves, and some of the time we have to expend so much energy to get them to focus, it isn't even worth it. And why the fuck as an adult BC, did all those childhood activities not translate into me doing something productive with my time? Like, once I got older, I should have been accustom to my afternoons and evenings being taken over by productive stuff like playing a sport, learning an instrument or taking an art class. Instead, my evenings consisted of copious amounts of alcohol, an occasional work out, dinner with friends and binge watching anything on TV that sounded interesting. I think when Hubs and I first started living together, we had like 12 different shows DVR'd. Now, I am lucky if I have the energy to watch one 30-minute episode.
It really is the circle of life though; my mom carted me around town to various sports, Brownies, art classes - whatever. She sacrificed Her time just to ensure that we kids had shit to do. And now I do it for my kid. Swim lessons, gymnastics, art etc. It's what we do I guess.
Once you you get home from your long ass day, your butt better be ready to rally. Bottle washing, lunch packing, clutter clean up so you don't step on something painful in the middle of the night and POOF - it's 9:30. This post alone has taken me three days to write since I am so fucking tired I pass out while typing.
Activity free nights are not even remotely free. Between Costco, laundry and who knows what the hell else, your time is just GONE. And I have long since left the shame of that last load of laundry sitting in the dryer for a week - too tired to deal. Fuck it. It will get done eventually - most likely on the next laundry day when I need the basket.
In any case, I miss my time, I want some back. I feel like even if it was just 30-minutes a day, I would be so much happier of a Mommy. But then on the flip side, I want to watch my kiddos grow - I can't get that time back either. Fucking exausting dilema. Yet again, another thing they should warn you about before you try for kids. At least then you can mentally prepare. Instead, we are left longing - and using the 10 minute we can stay awake to search for vacations to take without kids. One can dream.
Spoiler alert - this post is not about Mommyhood per se...and more of a Diary of the Scorned type entry. This form of confessional is why I started blogging in the first place - I needed an outlet. If you don't want to hear me run through the mental hallucinations and tribulations that are my head, check back next week for more on the trials and terrors of being an aging working mom.
For the rest of you that love Misery and need some company - here we go - I think I am permanently scarred. 2017 was a rough, no, not rough, but taxing year for me. Even though I should have been rejoicing at the birth of my son, I still find myself seething from the separation from my last company. That is being nice - they laid me off while I was on maternity leave - after I spent a year trying to fit a mold of what they wanted - yes, they suck. But you know what, I need to just let that shit go.
I am not even going to tell you how many books I have read trying to do that. I mean, I had trust issues before all that shit went down - now I feel like I am a Bubble Boy or something - insulating myself from everything and just living in constant terror that I am not good enough, or that I don't belong anywhere I find myself constantly questioning my abilities. Which sucks, because honestly, I want to just accept that who I am is pretty fucking great, and I belong in a place that embraces that.
I am pretty lucky, I feel like I have found that place - but getting back to being scarred for life - I can't just trust that it is going to be okay and enjoy it. Why is it we feel that the bottom is always going to drop out? Why can't we just feel happy when we are? Why can't we admit our happiness and trust that the universe has it all worked out? Why do we always have to ask why??
Living in fear about what may or may not happen is no way to live. I don't want to exist like this anymore - and I am determined to take the journey to figuring out how to change it. 2018 is being coined as my 40Gold Year. I turn 40, I need to lose 40 pounds, I want to make some great money and I want to find my Shiny Zone - named in part with Tamatoa from Moana in mind - "I would rather be Shiny" - minus the fact that he is actually a bad guy and pretty much a bully in that scene, but we will forget about that and just think about the shiny, non-kill Maui parts of the song. Ok, come to think of it, maybe that is a bad example. In any case, I want to be the brightest person in the room that helps to light everyone else up. I don't want to wear fear - I want to wear glitter and sunshine and rainbows - I want to be Poppy from Trolls! Jeez, have I seen ANY adult movies lately?? I need a fucking date night.
So friends, here you are with me - today is day number one of my 40Gold journey. Today's Afirmation: "I am not afraid to be who I am, embrace it and let it shine out!"
With that, I hope we can all just believe in who we are, embrace it and let the world know we are proud of it. Feel free to send this to any of your friends that need a reminder that they rock for who they are (and for having you as a friend). Happy Tuesday, y'all.
Foul mouthed, outspoken and pretty much an eternal realist.