If you’re a parent, particularly one that has multiple children, you’ll know what I mean when I say how hard it is to find time for me. Not time to go have a weekend with ‘the girls’, not time to take a cruise with my husband, but just time for me. Ten minutes to shave my legs would be nice. I’ve eclipsed the 5 year mark in eyebrow grooming, and for someone who needs waxing every other month or so, that’s pretty bad. My hair is grown out enough to donate, but there never seems to be time to go get it done.
The kids need fed 3 meals a day plus snacks. I’ve found that just making food and cleaning up after them takes up about 3/4 of my day. Add in laundry and dishes, occasionally sweeping up the mass of crumbs on the floor and remembering to water the plant and vacuum (not to mention hey, I need a shower every day!) pretty much takes up all my time. Yes, sometimes I get a chance to sit for 10 minutes while the kids play quietly and write a blog post (or like now, when I’m forced to sit and wait for my 3 year old to be done in the bath and the baby is napping– yes I’d rather be cleaning or prepping lunch, but the kid hasn’t had a bath in a while, so here I sit).
I find myself envying the women I see. They wear make-up. Their hair ALWAYS looks nice. Not only have they had it cut, but it’s styled in some way. Their clothes are clean and un-wrinkled, they have had pedicures, wear nice shoes, and so on. I realized this morning what the difference was (besides having kids that can take care of themselves, which helps a lot I’m sure)… it’s that they plan the time, money and effort to do all this.
I’ve gotten up the gumption to call for a haircut a time or two, and then realized that we are running out of milk and we can’t do both. I choose the milk for the girls. Now sometimes is there still money and I forget to call until it’s too late and the money is spent? Of course.
The last few months have been hell, quite frankly. I was inundated with morning sickness for weeks and then all the sudden there’s no baby to show for it and I’m bleeding and burying a baby and trying to pretend for EVERYONE that it’s all just fine and dandy. It’s not. I feel like crap. I have some sort of bladder infection, which means I have to pee urgently, but I can’t because it hurts. The only real way to combat it is to drink a bunch of fluids, which of course I don’t feel like doing as it is turning colder here and I still can’t tolerate much coffee. My husband gave up making it when the nausea started and hasn’t done it again, he just waits until he goes to work, which means I’m doing things like drinking cranberry juice after gorging on salty stuff to make me thirsty. Then drinking a glass of water behind it. And still nothing helps. Then there’s the remains of the miscarriage which of course are not necessarily period like even almost a week later… and the blood tests I have to go back in for, which are a giant pain in the butt. Is it any wonder I feel like crap? If I don’t pass all the tissue I have to go in and have a surgery to get it out. But the only way it wants to pass is when I urinate, which HURTS. So yeah, my life is pretty much, drink, pee, attempt to half ass clean myself up while not crying in pain, and just deal with it. Showing the world a happy face. Saying ‘just a minute’ as I furiously try to hide all the blood from my kids and rush to take care of whatever fire/screaming fit/need that must be met.
Then look at all these women with smiling made-up faces, perfect clothes that are on-trend and fit right, and I’m dealing with a lumpy, abused body that’s gone through hell in the past 3 months. Feeling like I’m being judged, even if I’m not. Feeling like I’ll never feel like ‘me’ again.
I don’t know how to do it… and the last time I wrote a post like this I got ‘just make time for IT’ without any ideas as to how to do that. Smearing my marriage, my character, my life as if it was unworthy. My comment block specifically says if you can’t be nice, don’t say anything at all. So do that.. or stop reading here.
I wish I had advice to help you or the right words to say. It doesn’t help to tell you that you’ll feel better later… you will, but that doesn’t help you NOW.
As for the women with the makeup and the hair and the time, well, they look at other women and wish they had bigger boobs or smaller ones or a smaller butt or longer legs or clearer skin or nicer teeth or better clothing or a different car/job/life.
And you know that without really thinking about it, but sometimes it helps to actually formulate those thoughts.
I’m here if you want to vent via email, and am going to email you right now with my cell number so you can call if you really need a friendly voice. I try to pick up when it rings, unless I’m at work.