I'm tired.
I'm tired of whining.
I'm tired of waking up early.
I'm tired of being barfed on.
I'm tired of changing diapers.
I'm tired of having a cold.
I'm tired of my shoulders and back aching 24/7.
I'm tired of the Baby Bjorn.
I'm tired of of messes.
I'm tired of post-partum fatness.
I'm tired of unloading the dishwasher.
I'm tired of nursing pads.
I'm tired of cramming Zoe's antibiotics down her throat.
I'm tired of tiny socks everywhere.
I'm tired of laundry.
I'm tired of dirty carpet.
I'm tired of my clothes.
I'm tired of nothing good ever being on cable.
I'm tired of clipping little fingernails.
I'm tired of phone solicitors.
I'm tired of crappy cell phone reception.
I'm tired of errands.
I'm tired of Target.
I'm tired of paying $3+ for gas.
I'm tired of thinking of something for dinner.
I'm tired of giving baths.
I'm tired of macaroni & cheese.
I'm tired of sippy cups.
I'm tired of infant Tylenol.
I'm tired of car seat buckles.
I'm tired of diaper rash.
I'm tired of Chuck E. Fucking Cheese.
I'm tired of Maisy, Miffy, Max & Ruby, et. al
I'm tired of tantrums.
I'm tired of coloring.
I'm tired of Play Doh.
I'm tired of sharing the shower.
I'm tired of being the only one who cares if the house is a disaster.
I'm tired of being the only Mama. (Where can we rent a backup?)
I'm tired of being tired.
I am just plain exhausted, in every sense of the word; I'm spent, I'm done, I'm ripe. I know how previledged I am to live the life I do, to have what I have, to be who I am. I don't take that lightly. But I also know that I am so f***ing tired that my hair hurts. I feel beat down. And I need to say it, sometimes. Call it complaining, call it whining, call it what you will. But sometimes, a sister needs to tell it like it is. Can I get an AMEN?
I'm tired of waking up early.
I'm tired of being barfed on.
I'm tired of changing diapers.
I'm tired of having a cold.
I'm tired of my shoulders and back aching 24/7.
I'm tired of the Baby Bjorn.
I'm tired of of messes.
I'm tired of post-partum fatness.
I'm tired of unloading the dishwasher.
I'm tired of nursing pads.
I'm tired of cramming Zoe's antibiotics down her throat.
I'm tired of tiny socks everywhere.
I'm tired of laundry.
I'm tired of dirty carpet.
I'm tired of my clothes.
I'm tired of nothing good ever being on cable.
I'm tired of clipping little fingernails.
I'm tired of phone solicitors.
I'm tired of crappy cell phone reception.
I'm tired of errands.
I'm tired of Target.
I'm tired of paying $3+ for gas.
I'm tired of thinking of something for dinner.
I'm tired of giving baths.
I'm tired of macaroni & cheese.
I'm tired of sippy cups.
I'm tired of infant Tylenol.
I'm tired of car seat buckles.
I'm tired of diaper rash.
I'm tired of Chuck E. Fucking Cheese.
I'm tired of Maisy, Miffy, Max & Ruby, et. al
I'm tired of tantrums.
I'm tired of coloring.
I'm tired of Play Doh.
I'm tired of sharing the shower.
I'm tired of being the only one who cares if the house is a disaster.
I'm tired of being the only Mama. (Where can we rent a backup?)
I'm tired of being tired.
I am just plain exhausted, in every sense of the word; I'm spent, I'm done, I'm ripe. I know how previledged I am to live the life I do, to have what I have, to be who I am. I don't take that lightly. But I also know that I am so f***ing tired that my hair hurts. I feel beat down. And I need to say it, sometimes. Call it complaining, call it whining, call it what you will. But sometimes, a sister needs to tell it like it is. Can I get an AMEN?
posted by Alisyn at 9:27 PM
8 Comments:
A-fucking-men (sorry to mama O for my foul language!). Just wait until you soak in the jacuzzi with me. You won't be tired for long ;)
I think one of the reasons I'm so tired is because I know a vacation is coming, and I just can't wait. It's the vacation at the end of the very long, dark tunnel, and I just know I'll wish I came for a month, instead of a weekend. Maybe next year.
Double Amen. I'm tired with one little one, two would surely kill me.
The only help I can offer is I have some awesome and easy veggie recipes that I could send you. My e-mail is basketcasemama@verizon.net. I'll happily share. Just tell me what you don't eat. I know your veggie people, but there are so many kinds, some eat egg, milk or fish too, But I have tons of quick easy things if that would help. As for the mess. Get baskets baby!!! Just toss stuff in baskets. It clears clutter, and saves the obsessing a little. HUGS!!!!!
Just wanted to let you know that I blogged about your post on Blogging Baby.com. It should hit around 2PM. :-)
I second that A-fucking-men. Came here via Blogging Baby, and I can definitely relate to your post. Well said! :)
I'm tired of saying "stop it,don't do that, get down, No."
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