While it comes as no surprise, I’m amazed at how exhausted I am at the end of each day. Awake at 5:30, at work by 7, home with the kids at 5. And then … oh joy! There’s still dinner to make, bedtime routines to complete, and last-minute teacher prep for the following day.
My life right now is either some person’s idea of a sick joke, or just about every.other.mom’s.day.
So I guess I’m going to suck it up, buttercup.
Oddly though, even with the limited time available to me I still find that I’m trying my damndest to maintain an outward appearance of control and “isn’t my life great?” attitude for the sake of society.
Which is ridiculous. And yet I still do it.
I was thinking about that this weekend as I uploaded a new photo to my Instagram feed (*sidenote: I got rid of my Blackberry two weeks ago and haven’t turned back. I am my Iphone 5’s whore) (*sidenote #2: Hey! Speaking of Instagram, why don’t you follow me?! Yeah! You! You can find me under @thedomesticproject) (*sidenote #3: Wait … what were we talking about again?)(*sidenote #4: Nevermind. I remember).
It was one of those idyllic images Instagram is renowned for. Little sister and big brother, walking hand-in-hand with the sun setting and the filters a-flyin’.
|"Come, Avery. Let's walk into the sunset together"|
The thing is.
The thing is, what my followers didn’t see was what transpired almost immediately after. As in, Mace bailed on a slippery piece of ice and dragged his baby sister head-first down onto the cold pavement.
As gorgeous and isn’t-my-life-wonderful?-ish as that Instagram photo looked, only moments later I was crouched on the sidewalk with two screaming kids, one with a bloody head and the other with a bloody knee. And yet I chose to upload that image, anyways.
Isn’t that effing crazy?
But that’s what I do. And now that I’m back at work, I’m realizing that’s what a lot of moms do. It doesn’t matter that we can’t find the time to pee let alone complete all the mundane household errands needed day-to-day. We will make it look like it ain’t no thang, if its the last thang we do.
I thought about it in the hours that followed and later that night as the kids were bathing I decided to take a new pic, showing the aftereffects of that photo on Avery’s head.
|I went with the ever-popular "jaundice" filter|
I posted that latest pic to Instagram, and felt immediately better.
And I’ve made a commitment to myself that for the next few months, I’m going to stop trying to “do it all”. If I’m tired, I’ll say I’m tired and forgo after work outings. If the kids have to survive on a few more take-out meals than usual, it won’t kill them. And if I want to have a pee in private, then damnit I’m going to lock the bathroom door.
Because smoke and mirrors only work for so long.
*but it was a cute photo* :)