Two weeks ago I was assured that my son’s spring break camp would go on like normal, because the CDC had said gatherings up to 50 people were ok, and because the school had been disinfected the weekend before. “Great!” I thought. “At least I have a week to figure out how the heck this is going to work with two full time working parents, one who literally cannot work from home, and the other whose boss has strong feelings against working from home, ESPECIALLY with a child home (and rightfully so).
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I get tired of the sleepless nights, and the feet in my face. Tired of the early mornings, but never tired of the sweet little smooches at 5:30 am, no matter how tired I am. I get tired of the tv, and arguments about playing ball in the house. Tired of saying “hurry up”, all the “no”s, and the “please use your listening ears” moments. Tired of the accidents, and boo-boo’s that aren’t that bad (but create huge drama), tired of the doctors visits, and all the money spent on silly things.
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Lately my shame gremlins have been working overtime. They tell me I am not a good enough mother. I am not patient enough. I am not raising my son to be respectful and honorable. They tell me that I am not a good enough wife. I am not making my husband feel loved, pursued, respected. They are telling me I am not skinny enough. I am not fit enough. I don’t run fast enough. They are telling me I don’t make enough money. I am not trying hard enough in any area of my life.
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