Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Grump Thoughts

Warning: I am in a bad mood.

Parenting I think, is easier for some people than others. In fact, after reflecting on my personality type, I realized that had I done some sort of test on it I would make a good parent based soley on my personality, I would have failed.

I love my kids, but good Lord, I have so little joy when I am around them that I fear I have missed the point of having kids completely. All my internet acquaintances are posting pictures every day of all their cute babies and gushing about how much they love being stay at home moms....and here I am, going.... yeah...that's not how I feel. In fact, I would work part time starting tomorrow if my entire income wouldn't be going straight to pay for the childcare for all five kids while I work. I need an outside purpose. Just being a mom isn't enough for me.

I have a few hours each week here while the older four are in school and Oliver is taking a nap. I could paint, I could get creative, but honestly? I feel like I have nothing in me. Like that stuff needs time just to sit and be and reflect before I can even begin to draw or create. And since that "being" time doesn't exist, I don't create.

I DO do laundry though. I know, right? Laundry.  Why oh why, did I have kids....

Despite my feelings at the moment, I do love my children. All of them. Even the ones that I didn't birth that are IMPOSSIBLE at times for me to even want to be around. I still love them. I am fighting for them. I am committed to them. But I still want a life outside of them.

Make sense?

And that life isn't blogging. Because I think our personal life and stories are just that. Personal. Also, no one wants to hear about all the back talk and tantrums and sibling squabbling that happen all day long over here. Really. No one needs to hear about that.

My glass is pretty much almost empty too. No half full for me. It's like, gone. And every day I wake up exhausted, get through the day exhausted, crawl into bed exhausted. Repeat. Again and again and again. So I need some joy. Some spice to get me through. Also it's February, so there's that. Like, we are I-can't-remember-what-green-leaves-look-like deep into winter, and I keep looking at pictures of Florida wishing I would magically wake up there tomorrow. Eric says I'm not going there this year for my birthday, so I bought some Nikki McClure prints instead. Incidentally, the ones that spoke to me the most are mostly winter prints. Oh, the irony. Excited to get them into frames though. I figure if I can't buy a plane ticket I may as well buy some frames.

So here's the dirty.
I'm totally not connecting to my kids, there's too many of them, can someone please make them stop screaming and whining and touching me, and also can winter please be over soon. Oh, and I need a side purpose in life. My main job is obviously child-rearing right now, but come on. I need some part time inspiration here, because all this dirty laundry and child reffing isn't doing it for me.

And if I could somehow magically have all the practical skills inside me to parent kids with trauma, well then by all means, do that too.
Sincerely,
I think I might be burned out

5 comments:

  1. I just posted a super hugely long comment full of commiseration and encouragement and hilarity and something about babysitters with balls (I can't remember--it wasn't important) and then I accidentally hit "sign out" instead of "publish" and lost it all. But let me tell you: you can now feel encouraged and awesome and supported. Get right on that. Also, being an introvert artist with multiple kids is borderline impossible. Just putting that out there. And I love you. That too.

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  2. I miss you a lot, Beth. Which is weird. Ok, that doesn't sound right, but it's true. I guess what I mean is that I have this odd feeling of missing your current self, a self that I haven't spent any time with. Because obviously, we've been friends for a long time, but haven't been close as adults. I got to come out there a couple years ago (gosh, is it that long?) and know you for a couple of days as you are now and as I am now, and it was really really beautiful. Whenever I read your blog, I just find myself wishing that I was able routinely to jump a plane to Chicago and be with your kids and spend time with you (and with your goats, of course). I just really like you a lot.

    I also find myself resonating with some of the feelings you're talking about. Obviously, my life is radically different from yours, but I recognize that feeling that, even though what I'm doing now has so much value, I am just drained beyond the point that I thought I could be drained. I have been feeling past empty for a while now.

    "I have a few hours each week here while the older four are in school and Oliver is taking a nap. I could paint, I could get creative, but honestly? I feel like I have nothing in me. Like that stuff needs time just to sit and be and reflect before I can even begin to draw or create. And since that "being" time doesn't exist, I don't create."

    Yep. These things need space. A lot more space than we can give them right now, and I find myself resenting the fact that I don't feel like I get to be myself on a regular basis.

    I don't have an encouraging note to end on, other than to thank you for telling the truth.

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  3. Trying to make child's play becomes fair and reasonable is absurd; trying to become pure religion is extremely stupid.
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