Is this my life?
Am I breathing underwater?— Metric, “Breathing Underwater”
I texted Christy the other day. “Parenting is exhausting.” Because it is. I used to think it was only during the school year that things were chaotic. I’d pine for the summer when everything would slow down and we could relax and enjoy the long days together. In my mind, we were always sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch watching the sun go down as we sipped on iced tea. Even though I don’t drink tea and we don’t have rocking chairs on the front porch and even if we did, our house faces north so it would be hard to watch the sun go down. But still.
Of course summers aren’t any less chaotic than the rest of the year. Sure there isn’t any homework, but the housework and yardwork doesn’t go away. And it’s not like I can honestly expect my kids to get off their butts for five minutes and clean up after themselves. Heaven forbid I should expect them to actually do anything.
And then once school does start again, you add all the homework back in along with the school projects, football games, concerts, church events, and the ever popular last-minute “I need to go to ____ to get a ____ for tomorrow. Yes, I knew about it a week ago, but I’m waiting till now to say anything because I know you won’t mind dropping what you’re doing and taking me right this very second. Just wait here for 30 minutes while I try to figure out which shoes to wear.”
The thing is, if I’m being completly honest, I feel like a single parent most of the time. Christy has a great job that she loves as a nurse, but she works the night shift. Three days a week (and sometimes more) she’s gone. And when she is at home, she’s usually sleeping. And she normally works Sunday through Tuesday, so the first part of the week when things are the most hectic are completely on me. I try to do what I can around the house on weeknights after I get home from work, but inevitably there’s always a lot that gets pushed back till the weekend. So my Sundays in particular always seem to be completely full (church, grocery store, laundry, mow the yard, etc.). By the time I finally crash Sunday night, I’m so ready to go back to work where at least I can get a little rest.
I shouldn’t complain, I really shouldn’t. Christy’s doing what she loves, our kids have a roof over their head and food on their plates, and it’s not like I’m having to work multiple jobs to make ends meet. There are just times I feel like I can’t catch up. And I feel like this is all my life will ever amount to.
I guess if it is, if this is all there ever is, I should be content with that. Giving up myself for everyone else. Although I’m not really giving up much of anything, just going through what every parent goes through. It’s exhausting. But I guess it’s also worth it.