I hope that this doesn't sound like a petty thing to be angry about. But I'm angry and I want to vent. I'm angry because I haven't had time to go grocery shopping. Because I have my kids five days a week. Thanks to my Mom, who takes them overnight one night per week, which I call my sanity night; without her help, I'd only have one night per week to myself.
But two nights per week is not enough to get everything done that needs to be done and I haven't had time to go grocery shopping. Here's the petty part: over the last year I've been able to lose about 25 pounds to get back down to my pre-children weight. And I stalled my weight loss on my way down to my pre-marriage weight when MSTBE decided to be a total jerk and endanger my children's safety resulting in me having no time to grocery shop, meal prep, and exercise. I was six pounds away from my goal. Six pounds!
Here's where I start to really admire truly single parents, parents who have their kids seven days a week every week. I don't know how they do it. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids more than I ever knew that I could love another human and I miss them when they're gone. But there's just not enough time in the day. If I don't have time to water my plants and go grocery shopping and get the laundry done in a timely fashion, then how in the hell do parents who have their kids seven days per week? It astonishes me and I give them props, to say the least.
Between April 2015 and February 2016, I had it made. My daughter, having just turned 2, started spending nights at MSTBE's house in April 2015 for the first time. (My son had been spending nights for about eight months.) I had THREE nights per week (including a weekend day and night) to get things done. I had time to clean, do groceries, do laundry, meal prep, and make delicious, healthy meals for myself and actually sit down to enjoy them three nights per week. I started yoga (my sanity) immediately after my baby girl started spending nights there and was doing it 3-4 times per week pretty quickly thereafter. In October, I joined a running group. I've mentioned them numerous times before because I love them and they are some of the most supportive women I know. The premise was this: women who run and also love beer. We meet at a brewery, run a few miles, and then enjoy a beer or two together. And because I was doing things for myself, had time to get chores done, and felt fulfilled, I became a happier person and a better mother. I was constantly thinking that I had the best of both worlds, that I had "me" time but also had enough time with my kids, and I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it dropped at the end of January 2016. (Check here for the info if you haven't read it already.) As I'm typing this, I keep thinking to myself, "First world problems..." or "Damn, there are so many other things to be worried about in the world right now." And I truly do worry about those bigger issues. I'm not the kind of person to be so wrapped up in my own personal issues that I don't know what's happening in the world around me. There are plenty of things happening in the world that truly sadden me and that take such greater priority over my not being able to lose my last six pounds of weight to reach my goal. But I'm sure that you all understand: there are times when you have to vent and it might be about something petty. And there's a bigger picture here. I'm angry that the person that signed up for this with me isn't fulfilling his part of the deal. We got into this parenting thing together, nobody was coerced into it, and I'm the one taking on the vast majority of the responsibility. There was no "oops," our kids were planned and dreamt of before we had them. So I'm really angry and trying to find the positive side of this. Because positivity is like my religion.
Here's my attempt at optimism: there's no doubt that my kids are better off with me (and my Mom), even though I'm not quite the amazing Mom that I was when I had enough time to feel "myself.". (Maybe I'm exaggerating how amazing a was, just a smidge.) And I am lucky to have the extra time with them as they grow. There are fewer things that I'm missing out on and they are becoming better people because they are around positive, loving people who care for them and look out for their needs. These are the thoughts that get me through the anger and help me calm down enough to realize that I'll reach my goal sooner or later; they allow me to remember that things continually get easier as my kids grow older and, soon enough, I'll wish that I had more time with my kids.
And on that note, I bid you goodnight. (Ok that was weird, but it seemed oddly appropriate.)
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