As I sit here in my car, parked at an airport nearby (so I can see the little planes take off), I'm just taking some deep breaths. I recently went from one kid to two. This is not easy. There are many days, like today, that I just sit in my car and sob after taking my four year old to school. The baby is in the backseat and I pray that he doesn't wake up, so I can have this pathetic little moment to myself. Why am I crying? Why does it feel so hard? As if on cue, the baby starts whimpering. My tears stop. We can't both be crying. That just doesn't solve anything. Maybe it will pass. Maybe he will fall back asleep. Ok I think it worked. Can I get back to my pity party now? These tears are like my drug of choice. I just need to get them out so I can get on with my day. They are my therapy. Without this mini breakdown, I will be on edge all day. No one needs that. I feel like this game of life is eating me alive. I've lost myself completely. I even look different. I'm not even talking about all the weight gain - don't even get me started on the weight. I'm talking about my face. Even my eyes. I look tired and run down. I'm not the pretty girl I once was. I just want to feel normal again. Feel pretty again. I don't sleep anymore. I try to eat healthy, but here I am in the parking lot with an empty bag from Jack in the Box. I'm addicted to coffee again, but I don't think it helps. Because I'm a genius, I enrolled in a masters program. I thought I'd have extra time on my hands with a sleepy newborn. That was a mistake. I'm doing it, but barely scraping by. I miss work. Doesn't that sound sick? There I felt valued and appreciated. People look up to me there and they count on me. I don't feel that here. Babies don't talk and four year olds don't have anything nice to say. And let's not talk about the husband. Do men just not understand what a woman goes through raising kids? Or is it just mine. He acts as though I don't do anything. He complains about being tired - HE IS TIRED?? He has no idea what tired is. I'm raising this baby by myself. My mornings are complete chaos. Getting boy dressed. Making sure to feed baby before we leave. Making breakfast. Making sure boy eats said breakfast. Must take shower so I don't look like a homeless person in front of the rich and fancy stay at home moms that hang out at the school. They look at me funny. I don't belong. So I quickly drop off my son and get back in my car (with baby, of course) and begin my sob fest. Well today I waited to start crying until after I got my food from Jack in the Box - I didn't want to put the cashier through that - no one needs to see this. It's mine. Now that I have gotten my "drug" of saline filled tears, I will head home. Baby is crying again and I probably need to change his diaper. And hug on him. Let the day begin.
