My little vacuums have won tonight. I have no energy and it’s 7:29. It feels like 10:29.

I have no reason to be this exhausted!! That’s the kicker! I don’t clean and toil all day! I don’t cook 7 course meals! Hell, i didn’t even give the kids a bath tonight, so what the hell gives ?!!

I’m mentally 87 years old. And it’s due mostly to my 6 year old.

How does anyone make it to junior high school? I remember parents of my friends looking much less haggard than I do.

Contrary to my face , I do not inhale 2 cartons of cigarettes and three bottles of Jack every day. I swear. I WANT TO , but i don’t.

My husband is out of town. We are two days into a three week business trip. I even have my mom here helping, which she does, so why the hell am i more worn out than a Taylor Swift relationship ?!

And i try to get a moment’s peace by surfing the internet and all i see is Elf on the Shelf ideas and ‘easy to make yourself’ holiday decorations and Picasso-esque lunches and a million ways to braid your daughter’s hair, and how to keep every speck of dirt off you home surfaces.

Am i breathing at the end of the day?!! Am I able to wipe my own ass ?!! Is my front door locked?! Are my children alive?! Is there a head in my oven?! No ?! Well slap my ass and call me Kim !! I’ve survived another day!

This is not what I strive for, people. This was not my idea of what being a mom was. I had no idea i’d be this exhausted.

Perhaps the lack of sunshine and outdoor time is a little more severe here in the North West, but still.

I feel like a bleary-eyed, fang-toothed, screeching banshee with spikes for hair after putting my kids to bed. My poor daughter gets all of the Momitude that is thrown my son’s way since they share a room now. The kid is allergic to sleep. He has NEVER been anything remotely close to a decent sleeper. It was 9 months before he slept through the night, and ever since then, i get maybe 4 out of 7 days consistently. Bad dreams, can’t manage a blanket, frightened of shadows and specks of dust on the carpet.

I remember being a little kid scared of the dark. Hell, i was scared of the dark until i was 30! BUT. I was clever enough to quietly sneak into my parent’s room and just sleep. I did not scream the house down. I did not wake up every soul in the house. I did not holler and thrash and scream.

I do not have the patience sometimes I feel I should and it just piles onto the mom guilt we start after delivery … or conception.


Recently i’ve been feeling guilty i haven’t kept up with my witty reparte on motherhood and all things cynical. But currently, I’m seriously feeling accomplished if i have a roll of toilet paper in each bathroom. I finally washed my sheets today just because the idea of my kids getting on the bed in the morning made my skin crawl.

Forget that i’ve been sleeping on them!

Perhaps i’ve over-shared. That is just where my brain is at. I just don’t care.


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