Just Tired

29 Aug

I’m tired. Not the same type of tired that I was when Zoey was a newborn. This is a different type of tired.

I’m tired of my living room being covered in toys.

I’m tired of every inch of everything I own being covered in pet fur.

I’m tired of not being able to afford to remodel my terribly ugly bathrooms and kitchen. I’m tired of being embarrassed every time someone new comes to our house and sees how out-dated our kitchen is.

I’m tired of dipping into our savings every month to make sure we don’t go into the red, there’s not much left in our savings anymore.

I’m tired of my baby being fat, and tired of everyone pointing it out.

I’m tired of paying these stupid medical bills from 2008, when we couldn’t afford insurance.

I’m tired of rushing every time I use the bathroom in fear that the baby will start crying.

I’m tired of being unable to be close friends with any other human, because the second they get close, I do something embarrassing and they distance themselves from me.

I’m tired of all of the debates between moms: breastfeeding vs. formula, natural birth vs. epidural, cloth diapers vs. disposables, store bought baby food vs. home made, etc. (Why does it have to be war?)

I’m tired of not going on dates because we can’t afford the date and a babysitter.

I’m tired of the ocean of drool.

I’m tired of having to put on contacts or glasses every day (if I want to see anything).

I’m tired of my husband’s stupid, annoying cat.

I’m tired of the ridiculously over-sized magnolia tree in our front yard.

I’m tired of seeing negativity and tired of feeling it.

I’m tired of people asking “Did you talk to your parents yet?” and “Do your parents know you have a baby?”

I’m tired of worrying about my daughter’s health, or the fact that her eyes do not line up with each other (she has an appointment in the morning).

I’m tired of the heat and the humidity.

I know that I could continue this list all night, but I also know that too-long blogs do not make for good reading. I won’t continue the list. Not because I’m ignoring it, but because I’ve acknowledged enough of it to feel better. Putting these emotions out there publicly helps to take them off of my shoulders instead of stuffing them down and pretending that I’m completely ok. Reading the list to myself reminds me of the good things.

Sure, we may not have money right now, but I want to stay home with Zoey and experience as much of her new life as I possibly can. That’s worth more than money. Money can’t buy memories. I will go back to work one day, and we will have plenty of money. The medical bills may even be paid off sometime next year. The toys in my living room won’t be there forever. It is good to have them in easy reach so that Zoey can play while I watch tv or read.

I still hate my husband’s cat, though. Can’t put a positive spin on that.

Life isn’t so bad. We can’t focus on the bad things, but sometimes it is good to acknowledge them so that we can remind ourselves that we are human. Humans aren’t happy all of the time. Humans sometimes have negative feelings about things they aren’t “supposed” to have negative feelings about. There are always good things along with the bad, you just have to know how to look for them. Make your own list of things you are “tired of”. Be completely honest, even if you say something like “I hate my significant other.” Then, go through the list and think of positive things to balance it out. For me, it lifted unnecessary stress. I hope it will do the same for you. If it doesn’t, you can always tape a picture of someone to a pillow and punch it. Let’s just call that “Plan B.” (Not a reference to the pill)

Don’t forget to destroy your list if there is anything private on it.

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5 Responses to “Just Tired”

  1. amywithlemon August 30, 2011 at 12:19 am #

    Our kitchen looked in a perpetual state of remodel for over 10 years (and still does and still hasn’t sold). Cats are bull shit. You never, ever embarrass me. Babie are awesome, but also bull shit. Toys you’ll have to get used to. You’ll worry about ____ about Zoe always (the blank will always change). We’re in debt except now I actually have assets due to my inheritance, so whenever that gets figured out, I’ll pay off _my_ hospital bills. My kids’ eyes are straight but they’re still borked and need glasses and I can’t see for shit without my own. Zoe isn’t fat, she’s adorable and “fuck bitches” is what I say to moms who think motherhood is a competition with arguments to be won. If it works, do it. If it doesn’t work, move on to something else. My kids are awesome and have lots of flaws and I’ve made huge mistakes and I’m sure any number of other mothers would love to line up and tell me how to do my job- which they can gladly do after they’ve lived my life, cleaned my toilets, figured out my cowlicks, and lived for 10 years faking a sexy body while having stretch marks and grotesque boobs. Again, say it with me: “Fuck bitches.”

    You are a wonderful mom, friend, and daughter (and that still counts, even if it isn’t recognised by those who should see it). You are also a new mom who needs sleep, lipstick, dancing, a drink, sex, and (probably) a cleaner house without you having to be the one to do it.

    I am lucky to know you. I am _proud_ to know you. I am a better person for having known you and will keep getting better as I get to know you better. You make me feel like a better me. That takes a special person. Not everyone can bring out the best in others. Many people bring out the worst.

    I love you. And that cat is bull shit.

    I have drugs and drinks. Call me.

  2. Deborah the Closet Monster August 30, 2011 at 4:14 pm #

    I wish you could see my apartment right now. Before I had Li’l D, my house wasn’t impeccable, but it was tidy.

    Now, it’s a disaster. I don’t mean this to say there are always toys all over the floor (there are), but it is an untidy, unclean disaster. Which, come to think of it, I need to set aside some time address. Somehow, between Ba.D. and I, we’ve gotta be able to manage quarterly cleanings if nothing else. o.O

    Did you read my post “Dead Moms Can’t Care”? It’s a travesty that you ought be three years out and still struggling with this. Argh.

    • ContradictingKimmy August 30, 2011 at 10:35 pm #

      Now that you mention it, I hadn’t seen any of your recent blogs. Then I checked and noticed that you weren’t in my google reader. No idea how that happened, but problem has been solved. 🙂

      The main reason I get annoyed with my house being untidy is because I babysit kids and I don’t want their parents to think that they are dropping their children off somewhere dirty, you know?

      • Deborah the Closet Monster August 30, 2011 at 10:47 pm #

        I do. Li’l D was at one daycare for my first week back to work. It was meticulous and perfect, as far as I could see, except that leaving Li’l D there was costing me three hours of Li’l D-less time daily.

        I looked at a daycare that’d shave an hour off my drive time. My first thought was, “This is so cluttered! Ugh!” I shared that thought with Ba.D., who asked, “Cluttered in a dangerous way? Stinging/biting insects–like, things that will possibly harm our baby?”

        I explained my chagrin and was shot down. I’m glad for it, too, ’cause Li’l D’s “nana” is a blessing, straight up. I would never have seen it if Ba.D. hadn’t emphasized how much more important the other stuff (like how she came highly recommended for her care and attention to her kids) was.

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