Since the kids have zapped up all of my reserves, and I never get an extended period of time away from them or any kind of good sleep with which to restore my depleted reserves, the rest of the world has to deal with the grouch.
And by the rest of the world, I primarily mean my husband, but also my mother.
This morning, D got breakfast for N and G. At one point, he said to me something on the order of....
"I get G his food, and then I get N some more to drink, and then I get G a little bit more food. And then I sit down to eat my food, but by the time I sit down G needs more to drink. And so while I'm up getting that, N asks for something else."
I think my reply was something along these lines...
"Well that NEVER happens to me (see that sarcasm dripping down the walls?). Why the hell do you think I am so frustrated within 3 minutes of crawling out of bed?"
Rather than commiserate at our shared frustrations, I just get grumpy.
Last week, we had the grandparents over for dinner to celebrate N's birthday. I ordered Buca Di Bepo---apple/gorgonzola salad, quatro al forno and lasagna. My mother must have asked me 18 times what the pasta dishes were in the quatro al forno. Ok, maybe just twice, but at the end of the day (and that day was busy after 2 trips to the dentist and taking snacks to N's school) I don't have the patience for questions. I didn't make it so I didn't know. Nor did I care. I just wanted to get some food in my gut and get a nice little buzz off the wine as quickly as possible.
I certainly don't like being Grumpy Betty, but between the needs of 3 little people, breastfeeding 8 times a day, and interrupted sleep, plus keeping up with the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the bill-paying, I really don't have the energy to withhold my tongue from some sharp retorts.
1 comment:
Oh, Carrie. I could have told you that 3 kids would push you over the edge, but it would have been too late to do anything about it. I have been where you are, in those early, sleep-deprived months, and I remember the pain.
I can encourage you by saying that it does get better, especially when you start getting better sleep. (I'd try to convince you of the wisdom of doing some sleep training with M -- that is, letting him cry it out a bit -- but I know you feel pretty strongly on that issue.)
I had to laugh at D's description of feeding the kids. It was such a spot-on assessment of what happens at mealtimes with young kids who can't serve themselves.
I can't say that life is a piece of cake now that my younger two are older, but it is easier in some ways, and I don't have nearly the sharp tongue that I had when they were much smaller. Cut yourself some slack, practice saying, "I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?" and know that all moms are crabby at least some of the time. :-)
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