I picked up my copy of previously referenced Jen Lancaster book. I’m, oh, 6 pages into it and the littles are being little tyrants tonight so I can’t enjoy a word. But it’s pretty typical Jen, bitterness and sarcasm and self-loving. I adore it already.
Tonight will probably be a late night since the baby just had what ammounted to a 2 hour nap and is wide awake and destroying the living room. Another day without any time to myself. I shouldn’t be so selfish but I feel like I can’t even do the job that, apparently, God put me on this earth to do. I have mommy burn out. And I’m a lazy mommy. I can’t even be bothered to do the dishes more than once a day. My kids have some activities but it’s in jumps and starts. We mostly stay home and try not to irritate each other or cause amoebic dysentary because I rarely clean the bathroom or sanitize the toys.
I got a cookbook today at the bookstore (see…$50 just to get out the door). It’s all about hiding nutrition in the foods your kids already eat. I’m skeptical. Because, see, you can’t just buy red dye #40 at Target and my kids refuse to eat anything without it. Except ham. Pounds and pounds of ham. I? would have a creamy peanut butter center if you cut me open. My girls are full of ham. I haven’t looked through very many pages but I am willing to try anything. I’m so tired of Mac N Cheese, eggs and cheese, taquitos, chicken nuggets, cinnamon toast, chicken and stars soup, chili, ham sandwiches, ham rollups, ham and cheese and crackers…repeat, repeat, repeat. And I’m ready to cook again.
Much like the sleeping alone thing, cooking again is a baby step. We used to cook all the time. Together. Separately. As a family. I’m making pork chops, garlic mashed potatoes and biscuits for supper tomorrow night. At Ella’s request. We haven’t done pork chops in a long time. I might even try to grill them. Or shake and bake. Who knows. The point is, we are doing it again. Baby steps.
I need a good cry. A good ‘I’ve hit my breaking point’ cry. And I wonder if it’s ever going to happen. I wonder if the Lexapro is keeping it from happening. Or if the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. I have little tears almost every day but it’s usually because of something that Ella said or a friend who just found out what happened and then I have to console them. That scab gets peeled back every time that happens and fresh air hits the wound making that scar deeper. I just need one really good, get it all out, cry. Maybe alone. Maybe with a friend.