Today It Got to Me

I'm writing this even though I don't have time to write this. There will be typos because I think I'm hitting my computer keys so hard that I'm just mashing them at this point.

But this is the rant of a mother who is on the edge. And since I am a single mother with no one to ask me how my day was (and then ignore the answer), this will have to do.

As a single mom, I'm pulled in many different directions at once. And I usually don't mind it too much - I'm one of those people who puts her head down and just does what needs to be done. 

But there are times when my kids seem - dare I say? - ungrateful. And, sure they're kids and they've got other things on their minds other than remembering their mom is a person sometimes and I get that. I don't think I realized my mom was an actual human being until I was in my 20s.

Today it just got to me.

I work from home, mainly so that I can take care of my kids and work around their schedules. This means that I am sometimes working until 9 or 10 at night, but I consider it worth it.

Until I can't do something for one of my kids and they whine about it.

Today it was my son. He and I rarely exchange cross words, but after explaining some weekend plans to him - all of which are extremely inconvenient for me so that I can accommodate him as much as possible - I got a sarcastic "FINE" from the backseat of the car when I explained one little component of the weekend that I just couldn't do.

Which is why I'm writing this blog.

I'm thinking about my day. I woke up this morning like I always do, wondering how in the hell I'm going to fit everything in. Basic needs like showering and meals are usually second to trying to get as much work done as possible so that I can spend the afternoon driving my kids everywhere. Heaven forbid I should have to go to the grocery store, like I did today - I really don't have time for that. I'm looking at the chipped nail polish I have on my toes from when I actually took to the time to put it on - not an actual pedicure, mind you. A Sally Hansen moment in my bedroom - I think sometime in July.

At any moment now, one of my kids will burst into my office to tell me I forgot the one thing they asked for at the store. I'll finish this blog and go into my kitchen where all of my kids will have left their cereal bowls from their snack, even though I yelled at them all about that last night. I will then strap myself into my car for the next three hours getting them to piano lessons and back and a fun spur-of-the-moment team night at the bowling alley (for crying out loud!) that my daughter just told me about.

In between that running around I'll pop in and out of my house trying to make sure dinner is ready by the time we're all home together at 7:30. My youngest daughter will complain that she doesn't like what I've fixed and then she and my son will take an hour to eat it. I will eventually get frustrated and retreat to my office to work while I go back and forth to the table to police their vegetable intake.

By 9:30 I'll be tucking two out of three of them in, because one of them will have forgotten a homework assignment was due tomorrow. I'll look at the book I ordered from Amazon that's been sitting on my nightstand for a week unopened because I haven't had the energy to read it (seriously. I don't have the energy to read a book).

Eventually I'll fall into bed, exhausted and wide awake, thinking about all of the things I didn't get done that will have to fit themselves in the next day.  My dog will be annoyed that I'm taking up so much of his space on my bed. I'll try to remember if I brushed my teeth.

If you're nodding along with this blog, thank you. If you're poised and ready to offer advice - don't. I know that saying about being sad when your house is eventually quiet and believe me, I dread that day (most of the time).

For now, I'm going to send this out into the world and wonder if there's another mother out there like me, hiding in her office, door closed, taking a deep breath before she joins her family and tries to tackle parenthood once more.