I read somewhere that some four-legged animals sleep while standing up because they cannot actually get up off of the ground in the first place. I also read that some need to combat the wild and must remain alert at all times. This does not sound that much different than a mother.
I have two kids. I have two cats, who are the most ungrateful, spoiled, messy beasts to ever roam this earth. I have a house to take care of. I have a husband who is really awesome with the kids, but who always forget to take out the garbage and thinks the laundry baskets are his to use as storage. I am in nursing school. Sometimes, the thought of doing anything with the kids makes me want to hide in my closet. I frequently feel frustrated and irritable (no, I don’t need medication … at least not that kind), and I fantasize about working full-time.
This is all normal, and I don’t beat myself up over it. I really don’t. I know staying at home is the hardest job in the world. But what I wonder is, how do women with more children and pets than I have do it?
How do the moms with three, four, five or more kids handle it? How do they do three meals a day plus snacks, play dates, and trips to the library? Seriously, how do you do it? One of my girlfriends is a single working mom of five kids. Five. As in, fiiiiive. She is amazing. And tired. And when I think of my life compared to hers, I am speechless. Three out of five nights a week I have my list prepared and ready to give my husband as to why we need a nanny and a maid.
My younger sisters are gems; they pointed out to me once that I refuse to leave the TV on all day. I play games with my kids and we usually have one outing each day, whether on a walk, to a local nature center, to the library, whatever. The reason I’m so tired, they pointed out, is that I interact with my kids. We don’t have money, they also kindly noted, to go out to dinner or grab a pizza some nights.
I tend to disagree. While their words are comforting, I know the truth. I am so tired because I suck at managing my time. I could probably add an extra three hours a day if I just got up when the alarm went off, not when my four-year-old pulls me onto the floor to wake me up. Then, because I’m up after him and the baby, I’m already ten steps behind. Then I spend all day running back and forth between computer, bills, writing, studying, and pulling them out of mischief. If I got up early and did my stuff first, I could be exhausted and tired like normal. But this may never happen. I am lazy in the morning, and this is where the wish to be a cow comes in: I wish I could sleep standing up.