I woke up at 8 when my 5 year old alarm woke me, fed him breakfast, fed the baby breakfast, fed the 3 year old breakfast, gave each one a bath, then finally sat down for breakfast and a cup of coffee at 10am after getting the baby down for a nap. Maybe that was the problem, delayed caffeine consumption...
Time out. 3 year old is melting down.
Time in. So she's screaming because while she and the 5 year old were playing in her room, he moved her high chair. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? This is what sets a 3 year old off? I don't get it. I don't get it at all. Try paying bills, having a mortgage, fight over real things kid.
Anyway. It's been a pretty normal day... Feed kids, bathe kids, clothe kids, feed kids, get one kid to nap, feed kids some more, make sure no one kills anyone, etc...
Tony comes home, starts talking about his day at work.
Sorry, had to go lock myself in the bathroom. 3 year old is screaming again, and 5 year old wants to talk Pokemon and I'm just done with noise today.
So my husband, Mr. Important, comes home. He has a new job, if you didn't already know. He's pretty important. He is now a Senior Manager at Waggener Edstrom (a PR firm in Portland). He's big time. Whatever. Don't get me wrong, I'm super proud of him. I really am. But here comes the pity party... He's telling me about his day, he's telling me about how he went to lunch with some other important people at work and this is what gets me... He says, "... and they all said they really want to meet the kids. That I should bring them in sometime."
Now let that marinate.
Maybe I'm crazy. Shoot. I know I am. But I am now sitting in the bathroom writing this post feeling like my part: carrying, birthing, feeding, and making sure they don't kill each other, is ridiculous and unimportant. Tony doesn't get it. I mean really. I feel completely disregarded, like I'm some inconsequential middle man. No one really cares about the spouse who doesn't have a "real" job who stays home with the kids. Let's just skip right over her and meet the children.
Funny side story, I was at Costco just this afternoon with the kids eating lunch and I invited this super nice elderly woman to join us since there wasn't much room elsewhere. We had a really nice time and I enjoyed our conversation. When we got up to leave, she looked at me and told me straight faced "you're a good mother."
Do you know how often that happens? Not nearly as much as it should. Not just to me, but to any mother. It makes the dirty diapers, the screaming, the fighting, the poop & pee NOT in the toilet, the mess, the feeling of little to no self-worth so much easier to swallow.
Later on, we got home and I was unloading the van when I picked up the 10 pound bag of sugar I bought. I thought to myself, this sure is heavy. Then I realized, I gave birth naturally to a baby slightly bigger than that. How cool is that? I did that. ALL by myself.
And here I am, sitting on the bathroom floor, almost 6 years later, wondering, how did this happen? I should feel empowered. But I don't.
And now my computer is saying "you are now running on reserve battery power."
Ain't that the truth buddy, ain't that the truth.