I'm just spent.
That's what I just said to my husband after he said, You know I'm not all THAT bad. I just stuffed all the diapers. And washed the dishes.
I've been snapping at him all day. I feel bad for being so cranky with him. I think it's easiest to be the most raw and honest with those we love most. It started this morning. Eric and I both enjoy sleeping in, but, as any parent knows, sleeping-in is a long-forgotten luxury when you have a one-year old. Eric wanted to sleep-in. So did I. I reminded him that I've had insomnia lately and have been having back pains and that I NEEDED the sleep. And I reminded him that he got to sleep until noon last weekend. He didn't like being reminded of that and swore he'd never sleep-in late again because he didn't want to have to hear about it. (Whatever. This was the first time I'd mentioned it). And then while in the car driving to our family Christmas card photo session, we got to talking, and I just felt he didn't hear me. That I am tired. And exhausted. And just need a break sometimes.
And then I feel guilty for wanting a break. Am I a bad mom for wanting some time to myself? Am I wrong for wanting to call my workday a wrap at 6:00 in the evening instead of 8:00 sometimes? When you have to harp and moan about it, you start to feel guilty. And I don't feel like I should feel guilty. I need ME time. I need some fun. I need some relaxation. I need all those things so I can be a better mom.
Explaining this to a man who works 10-hour+ days -- yeah, I often feel unheard, but today, on the verge of tears a couple times, I felt ignored. In the afternoon, I retreated to our computer room and played e-mail catch-up, and just those two hours of non-mom time made me feel so much better. I went and tucked in Greta, and I relished that time more.
Still, it's the end of the day, and I feel a bit guilty for complaining. I've got a happy, healthy child, yes. But sometimes I just need a few moments to recharge.
On the topic of complaining, I'm challenging myself this month. It's the month of Thanksgiving, and I'm going to try to blog each day about something I'm thankful for. Of course, the first thing that comes to my mind, despite my day's bitching, is my family. Tonight, as we finished reading Greta her bedtime story, we all squeezed each others' noses. Greta's learning body parts. We're trying to teach her to nicely touch our noses instead of trying to jam her little fingers up our nostrils. All in due time.