I am exhausted with a capital E. I am ALWAYS exhausted. I have been beyond tired for seven years (yes since Ben was born). Every night I collapse into bed as if I have run a marathon. I think that if I have to do one more load of laundry, wash one more dish, cook one more meal I will collapse. I have worked harder lately on some of my friendships and feel much less alone now because I realize we are all in the same boat together. But I still feel exhausted. Josh has been in San Francisco since Saturday and I am no superstar at the single parent game. I am proud of myself though, because at least this time I have not taken out my exhaustion or frustration on the boys, like I usually do. We have actually enjoyed each other's company. As soon as Josh left, Ben came down with a stomach virus. The poor kid missed the first day of school. I was just getting over the same thing, so we were a big mess. Between taking care of the kids, taking care of the dogs, cooking, cleaning and ferrying everyone around I have been a mess. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed and stressed that I feel like I am going to explode. Hence my sad blogging record this week.
I know this will get better as the kids get older. I know that part of this must be due to having kids so late in life and being over forty. But I am SO tired. And it is hard to keep up my motivation some days when it feels like the laundry will never end. And if someone asks me one more time, "What's for dinner?" I might commit homicide—it is even worse when they whine after you tell them what it is.
My friend Jenna feels guilty when she complains because she is so blessed. I know that I am blessed as well. But as I heard Chris Rock say the other day on Fresh Air, "Just because you are doing well doesn't mean you can't complain". Well said Mr. Rock. Well said.