“Both abundance and lack [of abundance] exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities. It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend." - Sarah Ban Breathnach

Monday, October 20, 2008

Being a Mom is Making Me Sick!

Now, don't get me wrong. I have a wonderful husband and great kids! But, I have come to realize that there are some aspects of being a mother of six that keep me on the chronic fatigue treadmill.

I would LOVE to be able to really pace myself. In fact, I think it is the key to getting better. I can tell, when I am able to rest when I feel tired and stop before I reach my limits, that I am improving. I am hopeful! Being a mom, however, sometimes I do not have the luxury of resting when I need it.

Here's a sadly too common morning. My daughter doesn't wake up to her alarm. I have mine set as a back up, so I get up at 5:45 am, trudge downstairs, and wake her up. I go back to bed. She pops in to my room, turns on the adjoining bathroom light, does some girl thing in there, leaves. About 6:25, when my two oldest are supposed to have been gone, my son is by my side telling me he needs a dollar for gatorade for his water polo game after school. I hear the door close downstairs at 6:30, but it pops open again at 6:36. My son is in my room again, goes to my closet and takes a handful of candy I have stashed there. He leaves, and I hear the door close again downstairs at about 6:40. I'm pissed they left so late, so I'm seething a little.

My second alarm goes off at 6:50 am, and I wake up the other four children. They trudge into my room for morning prayers. After prayers, one son tells me he's not feeling well. I check his forehead for fever; nothing. He then tells me he's really just tired. I tell him if he stays home from school, he has to stay in bed all day. After some in and out fit throwing, he decides to go to school and call if he doesn't feel well.

At 7:15, he's back in my room. Apparently he can't find his shoes. I send him back out to look. He's in and out, throwing fits, mad that I won't help him look. His little brother finally comes into the room and offers to help. Problem solved by 7:30 when their ride gets here.

My husband gets up and in the shower. First one daughter comes in and asks questions through the door. She leaves, and the other comes in to ask questions through the door. They all finally leave a little after 8. I'm so exhausted, I can't move. I spend the next two hours dozing and waking, looking at the clock, thinking, "I have to get up! If I sleep much longer, I'm screwed tonight!" I finally crawl out of bed at 10.

Add to that all the activities that require my attention, regardless of how tired I am -- helping with homework, nagging about chores, going to parent/teacher conferences and other school related activities, driving them to choir concerts and water polo practice and Scouts and games. I'm not getting better, and as long as I'm a mom, I don't see how I can ever get better.