Almost one year ago today, I wrote a post titled, No, I’m Not Tired: The Life of a Working Mom. I looked back at it today and realized how much my life has changed in one short year. When I wrote that post, I had one kid – now I have two. BIG DIFFERENCE.
So I thought I should write an update. And this time I am going to title the post appropriately, because yes, I am tired. Very tired. Four cups of coffee tired.
One year ago, I would get up at 5 am in the morning. And I thought that was early. I have moved that up to 4:30 am. Every morning. I do this for one specific reason – so I can get in my thirty minutes of uninterrupted me time. The crazy things that moms do to get a minute without a kid yelling, “MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM”.
I actually sleep in my workout clothes. Then, when my alarm goes off, all I have to do is literally roll out of bed. I do not sleep with my shoes on. Though it would increase my efficiency and save me a minute or two.
I snooze once and make it downstairs around 5 am. I feed my three-month-old his bottle while drinking my coffee. Then I lay him in the rock and play to get more sleep and I head to the basement. I get in my me time – which is a 30 minute workout. Call me crazy but it makes my day better and gives me energy.
Then I shower, get the toddler up, and attempt to get him downstairs for breakfast after meeting his early morning demands. The other day I literally had to give a name to each and every animal on his pajamas before he would get out of bed. I started running out when we got down to his feet and he got a Sir Edward the Gray Fuzzy Squirrel.
Then I move to his drawers to get clothes out for the day. This is when he sits on the floor and cries because he wants to wear his pajamas to the sitter’s house. Each day I say no and each day he cries. Actually some days I just give up, say screw it, and let him wear his pajamas all day long. I might even let him sleep in them again that night.
Once all negotiating is done upstairs, we move to negotiating in the kitchen for breakfast. He doesn’t want milk, It’s too cold. He also doesn’t want juice because it is too cold. He will eat Cheerios, but only in a bag, not a bowl. He doesn’t like that bag – there is a half millimeter crease in the right corner. The dog is licking his foot. He needs his blankie. He wants chips for breakfast.
By this time I am at my wit’s end with my toddler and move to the newborn. I get him dressed and into his carrier. I make sure the diaper bag is packed for the sitter. I honestly don’t know what I will do when that kid is mobile.
By this time my husband is making it downstairs and I wave my white mom flag. I head upstairs to get myself ready for the day and let him dress the toddler. I can normally hear him – the toddler – screaming something absolutely insane and I try my hardest to ignore it. One day his Pull Up was “too Mickey” and he wanted a plain white one. Or his shorts – which are actually pants – are too long.
Logan, my husband, wrangles the kids into his truck to take them to the sitter’s house and I have about thirty minutes completely alone to get ready for work. I try to put on makeup, dry and straighten my hair and get dressed in this time period. Sometimes I make it happen. Some days are a complete and total failure. Some days I wear a nice outfit. Other days I wear what used to be a nice outfit but now has spit up stains on it. Those are days with a strategically placed scarf or necklace. Some days I straighten my hair. Other days I do a half ass job. Some days I look in the mirror and think I did a pretty mediocre job. Other days I look in the mirror and consider crying.
Disclaimer: I am still in that stage of not having a freaking thing that fits after having a baby. My weight is coming off slowly but surely, but every time I look in the mirror I see a face and body that aren’t completely mine.
I leave the house, get in the car, race to work, pull into my parking space on two wheels so I’m not more than a few minutes late, and exit the car while juggling 4,763 items. I have my purse on my shoulder, my computer, computer charger, water bottle, phone, flats for when I decide to take my heels off, a file folder or two and maybe a sippy cup that rolled to my feet on the drive to work that is close to explosion.
I actually feel a sense of relief when I get to my office. I can sit in an office chair that has not been touched by a toddler. Uninterrupted. For at least ten minutes. Sometimes I literally just sit there because I haven’t stopped moving since 4:30 am and I have been awake for four hours. And my work day is just starting.
So the next time a co-worker asks me if i’m tired, I’m going to tell them the truth. I am tired. I am really freaking tired. Because I am a full time working mom. And I feel like I have already worked a full day without my work day even starting.
But you know what, I wouldn’t change this wild, crazy life for anything. Bring on the coffee.
Until Next Time,
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