I need an outlet, both the electrical sort (seriously, what were they thinking when they built houses in the 80s?) and the listening ear variety. I am a stay-at-home mom of a three-year-old daughter and a nine-month-old son, and my brain is turning to mush.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being a stay-at-home mom and I am so grateful to be able to raise my kids and watch every beautiful or hilarious moment, but there are days where I can barely remember my own name. Never mind the fact that there are always clothes to put away, a dishwasher to unload, and a meal to cook, just trying to keep both kids alive is a fulltime job. And an unpaid one at that!
And poor baby two. There are Legos and pieces of dropped food everywhere, and I mean everywhere. All the perfect size to get lodged in a nine-month-old throat. And it’s not uncommon for his first exposure to a food to come from underneath his sister’s kitchen chair. I am in a constant state of hyperawareness, and thus, a constant state of exhaustion. Nothing wears you out faster than a full day of calculating and avoiding ridiculous dangers.
Palace Pets brush? Choking hazard. Stairs, of course very dangerous but also equally appealing, apparently. Toilet bowl, a magnet for baby’s forehead which is now covered in bruises. Three-year-old big sister, a Russian roulette of helper, playmate and bully.
And speaking of said three year old, she is the source of 90% of my daily conversation, and unfortunately the majority of that conversation revolves around Legos and tea parties. Why yes I would love another strawberry lemonade. You made a castle? Oh, more lemonade, thank you. That is a very nice castle. And so on. For 12 hours.
I can barely remember what it is like to talk to grown ups. The part of my brain that listens and responds has shrunken like a raisin. Now, if an adult wanted to ask me if I liked my strawberry lemonade while repeating “we are having a tea party” on an endless loop, I would be right in my element. I am a pro at nodding my head and saying, “wow!”
So as I am enjoying my kids and loving them to death while simultaneously forgetting how to be a grown up, functioning adult, I am going to blog. Hello real people over three feet tall. Are you out there? Let’s chat. Please chat! It will keep me sane.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being a stay-at-home mom and I am so grateful to be able to raise my kids and watch every beautiful or hilarious moment, but there are days where I can barely remember my own name. Never mind the fact that there are always clothes to put away, a dishwasher to unload, and a meal to cook, just trying to keep both kids alive is a fulltime job. And an unpaid one at that!
And poor baby two. There are Legos and pieces of dropped food everywhere, and I mean everywhere. All the perfect size to get lodged in a nine-month-old throat. And it’s not uncommon for his first exposure to a food to come from underneath his sister’s kitchen chair. I am in a constant state of hyperawareness, and thus, a constant state of exhaustion. Nothing wears you out faster than a full day of calculating and avoiding ridiculous dangers.
Palace Pets brush? Choking hazard. Stairs, of course very dangerous but also equally appealing, apparently. Toilet bowl, a magnet for baby’s forehead which is now covered in bruises. Three-year-old big sister, a Russian roulette of helper, playmate and bully.
And speaking of said three year old, she is the source of 90% of my daily conversation, and unfortunately the majority of that conversation revolves around Legos and tea parties. Why yes I would love another strawberry lemonade. You made a castle? Oh, more lemonade, thank you. That is a very nice castle. And so on. For 12 hours.
I can barely remember what it is like to talk to grown ups. The part of my brain that listens and responds has shrunken like a raisin. Now, if an adult wanted to ask me if I liked my strawberry lemonade while repeating “we are having a tea party” on an endless loop, I would be right in my element. I am a pro at nodding my head and saying, “wow!”
So as I am enjoying my kids and loving them to death while simultaneously forgetting how to be a grown up, functioning adult, I am going to blog. Hello real people over three feet tall. Are you out there? Let’s chat. Please chat! It will keep me sane.