This shit is no joke.

Stay at home mom of two kids under two. This shit is no joke.

I'll say it again, it's the hardest thing I've ever done. I think about the 40 pounds I will lose after having Lincoln. That's nothing compared to the day in and day out adventures of being a SAHM. One kid, two kids, it doesn't matter. It's the toughest gig ever. Super rad and super tough. I heard a guy on NPR saying, "If you're worried about being a good parent, you're not the one that needs to worry." Whew! :)

The gym: my saving grace. The place where I can be me. I get to yell at people in class and they move their butts. I tried yelling at my 2 year old. He stared blankly at me, didn't even do the thing I wanted him to do, then starting crying. Awesome. I. am. Awesome. However, there's still the possibility that my gym time gets shortened by a poopy diaper or someone in hysterics.

I love my kids. I love them so much I can cry. I torture myself with horrible things that could happen like losing them. I could entertain the idea of suicide if anything ever happened to them. I would die for them if it meant saving them.
But, I love help more. Jason gets to be away all day while I am with two needy tiny humans. He's not exactly having fun all the time either I guess.

Why do we guilt ourselves for needing help? Why do I feel guilty for counting the hours and minutes until Jason comes home? Why do I feel guilty for needing a break? We shouldn't. I met a friend who has no qualms of saying, "I love my kids but..." She openly, without hesitation, without fear of being judged (because she doesn't care) says, "I love my kids but..." That "but" is filled with "I need me time and I'm not willing to give it up." I remind myself that kids or no kids, everyone needs a break from whatever it is that's demanding their attention; work, school, socializing. I'm never "off". Talon naps but even then I'm just waiting until the construction outside wakes him up and he cries after 20 minutes of being in his crib. I never in my life felt I needed a drink. These days, I get it. A glass of wine at the end of the day is appreciated. It doesn't always happen but when it does, ahhhh.

Today was tough and more sad than mad. Last Friday was mad. I did the stereotypical husband-comes-home-wife-hands-husband-toddler-and-says-get-out. Talon was in the kitchen rummaging through drawers, whining, hanging on me, I'm trying to fix dinner. I let it out when Jason came home. My fuse was down to the nub. My hands in the air, I said loudly (not yelling), "I admit I have very little patience as a mother right now. Get him out of here!" Talon hears my loud voice, starts crying and reaches for me from Jason's arms. My heart tears a little but not enough to take him.

Two year olds have no reasoning and their cognitive development is just beginning. Explaining to him while he's screaming from hunger that we're on our way to lunch doesn't do shit. What can you do? Block it out, turn up the radio, ignore him, give him a piece of fruit in the meantime. He'll eventually calm down and everyone will be happier when those fucking noodles arrive on the table. There's a language barrier as well. Sign language only helps so much. Talon doesn't have all the words he needs yet to communicate. I'll take a sassy kid over a irrational toddler any time. At least we can converse!

At this point in our lives, I certainly do more watching Talon than playing with him. Lincoln is completely dependent on me and Talon isn't completely independent. One of the things people love to say is, "Been there done that." I want to tell them to shut the fuck up. I hate hearing that and I hate hearing others say it to others. It ends up desensitizing the experience for the person talking. It takes a stance of what they're saying isn't important and whatever they're talking about is so passé. You can empathize with someone without taking away THEIR experience even if it is the same troubles with which every parent deals.

Well, it's 3:26pm. Lincoln just fell sounding asleep and now Talon is awake crying to get out of his crib. I got almost enough time to write this entire blog post. The wine is getting corked tonight!