I love my kids. They’re a lot of fun to be around. They’re smart, they have a great sense of humor, and they can be the sweetest little angels you’ve ever seen when they want to be. Which isn’t often, to be honest.
Ok, now that I have that preface out of the way – I want to wear ear-muffs all day. I turn the music up so loud they can’t hear themselves talk (mommy time-out, doesn’t everyone do that?) I yell over them just so that they can hear me telling them to get their shoes. I HATE the constant noise!
I’m a gifted introvert. And I’m a stay-at-home mom to 3 small children, two with SPD and psychomotor overexcitabilities. That means I’m living in introvert hell.
Worse, my kids are capable of triggering an instant migraine with one short episode of high-pitched “He took my toy! ‘No! I had it first!” It’s like someone scratching their nails down a chalkboard….screeeeeech! I’m tempted to quote Dr. Seuss at them:
“I do not like this one so well. All he does is yell, yell, yell. I will not have this one about: when he comes in, I put him out!”
They wouldn’t get the reference. (One Fish, Two Fish)
It might not sound like a huge big deal to you, especially if you’re one of those people who thrive in chaos. I’m not one of those people. Being with these little hellions day-in-and-day-out is stressful in many ways; but mostly because they trigger my own overexitabilities and overwhelm me.
By the end of the day, I’m done. Wiped out.
You would think I would hightail it to bed and rest, right? Wrong. “My” day is just beginning.
Once the kids go to bed (and actually go to sleep) I have work to do. I have chores, schoolwork to craft, blogging commitments, Teachers pay Teachers material to make, you name it. If it’s something that requires creativity and a quiet space so that I can focus, it has to wait until the kids go to bed.
It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you’re not constantly worrying about someone killing themselves (or their siblings.)
The bad part of this is that I have too much to do. So I routinely stay up late (1-2 a.m.) just to accomplish the things I need to. Which is a horrible idea, I know. It makes the stress worse, makes the migraines worse, and sends my immune system into overdrive.
I have no choice. If I’m going to put any kind of dent into my to-do list, then I’m up late. 9 times out of 10 that list is non-negotiable – I have to finish, meet a deadline, or get something ready for tomorrow.
My body has a mean little way of getting back at me – after a while of this burning-the-candle-at-both-ends routine, I’ll get a major migraine that doesn’t respond to meds. By the time we get the kids to bed, I’m incapable of moving, and crash in bed with a pillow covering my eyes. If I’m lucky I won’t have the migraine for the next week (that’s happened multiple times now.)
It’s a brutal thing, wanting time for yourself.
Still, I decided about a year ago that I was going to take time for me. I was going to produce something worthwhile, something that would make me feel less like I’m spinning my wheels and destroying any hope of a career. That something is this: my blog. I’m branching out a bit now into the marketing realm for the printables stuff (and holy cow, the business side of Pinterest is a dark underbelly of nastiness!) I’m doing something for me.
And it’s destroying me.
Still, it’s worthwhile because I feel better about myself. I know that given the peace and quiet of kid bedtime, I can be creative in a way that I had lost. Crafting printables isn’t equal to my art, but it’s exercising that creative muscle that started to atrophy.
True to form, I’m writing this post at 12:45 a.m. and yawning while I’m doing it. Yet another long night.
I think it’s time to shut the computer off, feed the cats, fix the Engineer a morning snack, and all the innumerable little tasks that must be done before bedtime. Tonight I crafted a set of illustrated letters for common letter reversals, wrote a blog post, discussed Mr. Genius’ day with him, and managed social media. I think that’s enough accomplished – especially since the dragon for the letter D was a time-consuming brat of an illustration.
Time to get my 5 hours of sleep, assuming that the kids stay asleep tonight. The night before last the Destroyer was up from about 1:30-3:30 a.m. So I was up too. Being a parent is such fun.
(tomorrow I will proof-read this post and see how many writing errors I missed. I bet there are at least 3 doozies.)