Tired

I love The Boy more than life itself. And I wouldn't change a hair on his head. He is just the way he is supposed to be, made perfectly. But that doesn't mean I don't get overwhelmed sometimes. And frustrated. And just plain tired. Yesterday was one of those days. A day for a small pity party and a good cry. I. Was. Tired.

I sent the following email to my sister: 

Crap. I'm having one of those days where I'm just so damn tired of it all. I just want one calm, easy morning where I don't have to make a juice cocktail or administer meds. Where I don't have to sprinkle enzymes on everything. One day where I don't have to pin him to the floor just to brush his teeth or chase him through the house to brush his hair. One quiet morning where I don't have to listen to the school schedule 84 times before the bus arrives. Hell, one morning where I don't have to make the exact same toast and scrambled eggs for breakfast. I just want one peaceful shower, just one! I'm just so tired of it all. It's the same damn thing every day; lather, rinse, and repeat. I'm old and I'm tired.

I used to feel guilty for these feelings. But you know what? I'm human. I'm allowed to feel what I'm feeling. It doesn't mean I love my son any less. Or wish he was different. We all get overwhelmed and frustrated and just plain tired sometimes. Its OK, really it is. For me, its important to acknowledge these feelings. Vent to someone who understands. Get it out. And then move on with my day. 

After The Boy got on the bus, I had a good cry. And then I got ready for my day and left for work.