Friday, February 24, 2012

Mama Needs to Vent

Frustration has invaded my world the past week or so and I'm going to spew some of it out on here in the hopes that maybe it will help eradicate the stress-induced breakout that has attacked my face.  Consider yourself warned.

In the trenches of life with three young boys, it can be difficult to make sure that Mom and Dad are taken care of.  In fact, it can be hard to remember that Mom and Dad actually have names that are not Mom and Dad.  We get so caught up in diaper changes, Play Dough, time outs, PIXAR movies, coloring books, and food battles that couple time gets completely lost.

We've really been struggling with this lately.  Evan was on a business trip to China for 13 days, so I was doing the solo parenting thing during that time and I missed him terribly.  I even had to go buy flannel sheets because I was sick of shivering myself to sleep every night without him there.  He came home and got readjusted, but unfortunately we adjusted right back into a routine that isn't necessarily most conducive to fostering our married life. 

After the kids are off to bed for the night, our evening usually shapes up to include some prime time television viewing while I work on the laptop and he's on his phone or reading a book.  There might be a workout on the Wii (me, alone, in the basement) or some laundry folding thrown in there (him, in the living room), but that's really about as much as we shake things up.  To be perfectly honest, I rarely feel like I even have the energy to do much else, especially on the nights when I've been at home with the kids all day and then worked the closing shift at the restaurant.  It's hard.

Evan and I both feel it's important for us each to have a life outside of one another.  He's going to see that Navy Seals movie with a buddy this weekend.  I like to have "drink wine and chatter" time with my girlfriends from the neighborhood and we'll sometimes actually go to the big city for a movie too.  But these activities are few and far between.

We haven't been on a date in six months.

Six Months.

It was August 14, 2011.  We went to American Players Theater to celebrate my birthday.  I had a nasty tummy ache the whole night and I was so ready-to-pop pregnant that my hips were hurting for the entire show.  Still, it was a date.

Really, I have no excuse for it having been six months since our last date night.  I mean, Thomas was born and was attached to my boob for the first couple months, so I think I get some leeway there.  But then there was just always something: Open House to clean for, two week business trip to China, Weight Watchers for both of us limits our dining out options, can't spend the money on it right now, too tough to get a babysitter.  It just hasn't happened. 

So, here I sit.  As I type this, I am still in my pajamas. At 1:00 in the afternoon.  Once again, I am trying my best to get my big boys to take a nap so about every 4-5 minutes, I am heading back into their room to use my mean mom voice to tell them to knock it off, get back in bed, and please for the love of God go to sleep.  My face is experiencing its worst breakout in recent memory.  My patience has been dwindling with every passing day and I find myself with a much shorter fuse than usual.  We've had no positive outcome from the Open House last weekend.  I'm frustrated, stressed, anxious, and I feel hideous.  And the worst part is that I feel guilty for even feeling this way!  I mean, it's not like things are really all that bad.  We're healthy and everything is really pretty darn good.  So why am I feeling so washed up and scraped thin? 

Ugh.  Mama needs a glass of wine.  But I'm not willing to blow the Weight Watchers Points on it. 

Thanks for listening/reading/whatever.  I promise my next post will be much more positive and will include adorable photos of pink kissable cheeks, sparkling eyes, and big smiles. 

Here.

Does that help?



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