I've had three children in 5 years. In that time, I got up every single night with them. I changed every single diaper. Fixed every single meal and gave every bath. Then, when they were 6, 3, and 18 months, I became a single mom. I worked full time and had two additional part time jobs. When they were 9, 6, and 4, I was working full time and going to school. And yet, never do I remember feeling this overwhelmed. Maybe it was because I knew I had no choice but to be strong and get it done. Maybe it was because my mom came two times a week and helped with the kids. Maybe it was because I was younger.
I just don't get it. It's just one more. I had four already. One more should not make that much of a difference. But oh, how it does. There are never enough hours in the day. Never enough time or opportunity to spend with the kids. Never enough energy to get the house clean, or the laundry done, or a decent meal cooked, or the papers graded, or for exercise. Or to play explorers or to sit on the couch and hold Charlotte. Never enough sleep. When I do sleep, I wake up and then my mind thinks of all I must do, should do, and I wonder how I am going to get it all done. I haven't read a book, or any part of one, in seven weeks.
At school, it is no better. There is always something to do, something I am supposed to be doing that I am not, something that should have been turned in that wasn't, or updated and wasn't. I take it home with me and it sits on the counter, forgotten amidst the chaos, the busyness, the mess. Meetings and help sessions after school and seemingly during every planning period proclude finishing at school, and after the meetings are over? I WANT TO GO HOME. To my babies, to sit on the couch and snuggle and laugh and sing and play. For exactly five minutes until all of the other things that need to be done win out...the dinner, the dishes, the bottles, the laundry, the dogs.
This weekend, my goal is to regain some order. To do some laundry. To clean. And yes, the elusive lesson plans and ungraded papers. to be able to walk into a bathroom without stepping on dirty clothes or seeing an overflowing trash can. To have everyone's clothes at least in their own room and out of the huge pile on my bedroom floor. To vacuum, mop, scrub showers.
Or maybe...I'll sleep in, blow raspberries, read boooks, and kiss baby toes....
Update and pictures on Monday.