The Sludge

I have hit my wall. I have hit my limit. I don't know what to do about it. I have not had a decent night's sleep in so long. I am getting crankier and my temper is getting shorter. If it isn't Bea staying up all night, it is my back and neck having such strong and painful spasms that I lay in bed and my head won't stay still and my back contorts and pulls other muscles because it's not supposed to bend that way. I have been in physical therapy for a little bit and it seems to be getting worse before it gets better.

I am now wading through neck high thick sludge that is guilt. I feel I am not a good wife, I am not a good mom, I am not a good dog mom. I don't have enough of me to go around. I am just done. I am sitting here crying because I am emotionally drained. I sit here on my bed looking around my bedroom at the piles of clothes. I need to do laundry and I need to put clothes away and can't get enough motivation to do that. When I start, I end up with a little boy trying to help me and it just triples any work I try to do. So, I try to get it done when he is asleep but now have a pile of his clothes sitting here that I never end up taking down to his room to put away.  I need to vacuum. My little dog won't go to the bathroom in the correct spot and she won't tell me when she has to go out because Blue tries to eat her. So in my baby's room there is dog poop and pee everywhere that I can't get clean. I can't afford just to get new carpet in there. My floor is a disaster because of the mud in the backyard and the dogs coming in and out. I don't have the time to take care of my dogs as they need. I have taken them for a walk once since October. I can't seem to even get the time to take 5 minutes here and there to work with Blue on puppy class stuff. It is all I can do to take the time to cuddle with them. Bea hasn't stopped crying all day and I don't know why. She will stop as soon as I pick her up. So I pick her up to stop her and then all I hear is silence and think "what is Linus getting into now?" So I find him in the midst of my makeup. Eyeshadow destroyed all around him, his finger stuck in my favorite lipstick up to his last knuckle. They don't make that lipstick anymore and it's now all over Linus. Does that even come out of clothes? I find myself losing my temper and instead of screaming at him I throw something out of frustration. He cries. Guilt. Bea is screaming again. I put her down and have to walk away because I am just so tired. I am tired of picking her up to turn around and having Linus in something. Sticking his finger in something, pulling something apart, leaving a bigger mess that I just can't bring myself to even clean because there will just be another one in 5 seconds. Bea won't stop crying. I try to shut myself in her room for just a second to compose myself and Linus pushes the door and comes in. I just need a second to compose myself. A second to breathe. I can't get a second. I shut the closet door and he starts screaming and banging on the door. A scream erupts out of me because I just need a second. It makes him cry harder. Guilt. I am sitting here on my bed and need to change the sheets and wash all of the blankets. Linus has figured out how to move the little trash can around and use it as a step stool and has poured my glass of water on my bed. There is so much that needs to be done around here and I don't feel like I even touch the surface of it. I need to go to the grocery store but at the mercy of the kids. I feel myself becoming apathetic due to my loss of any control I have. I can't even shower some days and it's so awful that when I do and Matt tells me how good I smell. Ya, it's cause I showered for the first time in 3 days. I hate feeling so gross. I hate feeling so frumpy. I don't fit in my pants. I look like a fat teenager who doesn't realize that the muffin top isn't cute. I bend over and my butt falls out because my pants don't fit right. My thighs are too big, my waist isn't as big, my pants just don't fit. My pregnancy pants don't fit right and the elastic doesn't hold up the pants. I look in my closet and don't like anything I have in there because it either doesn't fit, it's in poor condition, or it fits but it doesn't fit correctly so I am immodest and show underwear, butt crack, or too much cleavage. So, I end up wearing pajama pants and a tshirt. That's not attractive. Guilt. I hate when I start to drown in my guilt and my feeling of inadequacy. I don't feel like this always. But I feel like that right now. I just ate a pan of brownies. That will make my pants fit better. More guilt. My bathroom floor hasn't been clean in I don't know how long. My shower is disgusting. I need to go buy carpet shampoo but I have to wait for Bea to wake up. It was all I could do to get her to lay down. My son hugs me when I break down. Guilt. He shouldn't have to deal with that. The clutter is pushing me over the edge of my personal comfort zone, my sanity. I am a stay at home and can't keep my house clean. I can't keep my kids clean. I can't keep my dogs clean. I can't keep myself clean. When was the last time I brushed my teeth? I don't know.

So much for putting on makeup today. It's now running down my face and onto my clothes. I haven't even looked to see what's left and not ruined from little fingers. I hope Linus doesn't get sick, I was changing Bea's diaper and caught him chewing on the toiletbowl brush. Really? I would like to say it will get better, but then they turn into teenagers.  Thank heavens it's a 3 day weekend and that Matt is pretty patient with this handfull of crazy he married.

Linus is up. I can't hear him jumping in bed. It's the newest thing he's learned. I should add before I go down and get him out of bed. I don't yell at him very often. I usually silently scream, take a deep breath, try as I pleasantly can to talk to him. Maybe that's the cause of my pain in my back lately... keeping in the tension. I hate the first period after having a baby. Hormones are hard to deal with sometimes.