I’ve had it!
I am SO sick to DEATH of having to do EVERYTHING for EVERYBODY!!!!!
I’m tired of always being responsible. I’m wiped out. Weeks of hospital visits…running the kids to tumbling and dance lessons…stopping by my mom’s to visit…off to the library for a kids program…driving Mom to the doctor…another dance lesson…return phone calls…plan menus….
Oh, and let’s not forget that on top of all that, Supermom here is supposed to cook, clean, shop, do laundry, dishes.
Oh, and lose a little weight. Did I mention I’m a stress eater?
My house is trashed. I HATE being here. Tired of tripping over dog toys, broken Happy Meal toys, assorted laundry that never made it to the hamper because my family is apparently BRAIN DAMAGED. Tired of trying to remember which pile in which quadrant of our kitchen that phone number or schedule is located.
Did I mention that all the stuff that belongs in our (nonexistent) attic is (still) in my bedroom? Has been for over 4 years, since Little Sis was born and we had to turn “the attic room” into her nursery. I hate waking up and looking at that sh*t every day. I trip over it on my way to bed. I knock it over on my way to the bathroom every morning. It includes a large bag stuffed with gift bags that we’ve received over the past 7 years that are intended to be reused. It mostly contains “new baby” themed bags that we could NEVER POSSIBLY EVER USE UP IN OUR LIVES. We won’t ever have to give gifts to 78 babies. Did I mention that this teetering pile of crap prohibits me from even using my own dresser?
Wishing I could return some favors…all the playdates that were hastily arranged to I could see my mom in the hospital…the backyard sleepover I’ve been promising Little Sis for months (“When school’s out, honey.” “After vacation, baby doll.” “When your grandma gets out of the hospital….”). I think about planning our somewhat-annual ice cream social (I even bought invitations!), but I can’t bear the thought of adding it to my workload, even though it’s the world’s easiest party to throw.
But I don’t have enough patience for my own kids lately, let alone someone else’s too.
My book club book is gathering dust on a side table. The chaise lounge I splurged on ($30 at Sam’s Club) never made it to the deck. We never got out the grill…who has time?
Summer’s whizzing by, and I’m missing it.
On the bright side, I have (expensive) Jimmy Buffett tickets for Tuesday, but right now all I can think about is my extensive to-do list. Clear out minivan so six adults can comfortably fit. (Maybe get the car detailed? I hate doing it myself.) Make sure sitter can run Little Sis to dance class. Plan menu. Shop. Pack in coolers. Be at airport by 11:30 am to pick up my sister and her (new) boyfriend. Worry that new boyfriend won’t like me or that he’ll be disgusted when he sees what shape I keep my home in. Arrive at concert. Unpack. Cook. Feed people. Drink (heavily?). Try to remember to relax and enjoy myself. It’s Jimmy Buffett, for Pete’s sake.
I’ve had it.
Is this stupid antidepressant even WORKING? Hellooo?