I want to cry, but I can't.
I'm tired and frustrated, feel overused and under-appreciated.
I want to cry, but I can't...hold it together, Alissa.
"Alright, guys, it's bedtime. Let's go." Bite your lip and refuse to think. Refuse to think about how you have to go back to work tomorrow...to the job that pays the bills. To the job that keeps your family alive. To the job that's driving you insane. Paper, paper, paper and more paper. The seamless flow of never ending paper. No project ever ends and every day the same as the one before. Groundhog day...again and again.
Everything is irritating me. Is it really that the kids aren't behaving, or do I have a short fuse? Did I love them enough today? I don't remember.
I shuttled them to Daddy's early so I could get to work. I got off work early so I could shuttle everyone to the dentist. Cleaning, cleaning one by one. Shuttle to the grocery store to buy something for dinner because Mommy couldn't remember to thaw the chicken. So, what's for dinner? Chicken...Farm Fresh rotisserie style.
"Please stop talking so I can decide what vegetables to get. Please get over here. Please get off the cart. Please don't touch your sister. Please stop antagonizing your brother. Please! Stop! I CAN'T THINK!!"
"What did I do? Why am I in trouble? All I did was.... All I said was...."
Whining and crying all the way home. Disrespectful faces and harsh words. Now we're home, and it's time to prepare dinner and oh yeah, spankings all around.
Dinnertime. Dear Lord, thank you for this food and help me with the nervous breakdown please. More peas? More chicken? More pasta? More, more, more.
"Did you make the cake, Mom? Is it ready? Can I ice it? Is it cooled? How long to cool? Now? Now?"
Josiah is here. YAY! Hugs for Josiah. Make him a plate. Is it warm? Is it enough? Does he like light meat or dark meat? I can't remember.
"Josiah, your dinner is ready." Where's Josiah. What's that squealing? He's playing with Ryan. Ryan is giggling and laughing and playing. Josiah hasn't eaten; he's barely walked through the door. And yet, and yet, he's still found time to get down on the floor and play with my son. I love him. I love them.
Did I play with my son today? Did I love the kids enough today? Did I give them what they needed?
I don't remember.
Now they're asleep and it's all too late. Assignments to do. Bathrooms still aren't clean. Laundry still isn't put away. Kitchen isn't all the way clean. More, more, more, more.
And I won't think about the job I have to go to tomorrow. The job that pays the bills. The job that keeps my family alive. The job that keeps me in a windowless hole for 8-9 hours per day. "The light! It burns!" The job that slowly makes me feel like I'm dying inside. The job I used to really like. The job that keeps my family alive.
Did I love my kids enough today? I don't remember.
I want to cry, but I can't.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Just Write: I want to cry, but I can't.
Alissa Coburn is a lover of Jesus, the wife of her best friend, and of the mother of 6 beautiful children...whom she adores, but make her question her sanity daily. She also aspires to write and speak professionally, which she feels very deeply is her calling. "What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs." (Matt 10:27)