I’m pretty sure my son thinks the ground is hot lava. We’re on day “who the hell knows” of “don’t you dare set me down Mom!”. While my arms are looking pretty toned now, my exhaustion is on the rise.
My teething mama’s boy, who is entering the separation anxiety stage of infant life, makes for a stage five clinger barnacle baby. So my days are filled with a mix of the following:
– no memory. Tell me something or text me. I am sure to forget. Instantly. – a TON of coffee. Jack is up an average of 4 times a night. So, coffee all day long.
– a house that is a disaster. So much so that I’m entertaining the idea of packing a bag and moving.
– a toddler missing my affection so tantrums are on the rise, and I’m a sad mama missing our usual time together.
– a daddy who struggles with feeling helpless because if he tries to help with Jack I must be out of sight. Because with one look, my barnacle baby won’t stop crying until he’s in my arms.
– I sometimes dream of a quiet, dark room far away filled with snacks, wine and movies where I can just shut off.
– feeling behind in all things life, wondering how and when I will ever catch up. Pretty sure moms never catch up. At least I haven’t in the last 3 years.
– missing my husband because by the time we get the kids to sleep I have little left to give.
– overall I’m a drained hot mess, who tries to hide all my frustrations but doesn’t, so then, you know, mom guilt.
(I’m coming for you mom!)
In my better moments I remember this too shall pass. The hard times and crazy days that is. Because I know my barnacle boy will someday no longer want the cuddles or need me like this. And in no way am I ready for that to pass. Ever.
“Hold me and I’m happy mom”