Sunday, May 15, 2011

What I want

Lately, I feel like three years' worth of tired smacked me in the backside and kept going, leaving tread marks down my poor body, smooshed in the road.

Aches and pains keep me up at night, stripping me of any hope for a chipper, rested morning. The more tired I feel, the harder it is to be a good mommy. My patience is stretched thin and I just don't feel like getting up for the fifty-second time to fetch a another snack, put in a DVD, help fit a puzzle piece, or open the too-tight jars of Play-Doh.

I struggle through each day, searching for activities that will bring bedtime closer... sooner. I pathetically hold on to hope that my husband will come home a few minutes early, just to get disappointed again and again as his overly demanding job pulls him into one more long phone call, one more meeting downtown, one more urgent email.

Honestly, people? I'm pretty annoyed that no one told me my life as Mommy would be truly, physically painful.
Don't get me wrong; I love my daughter more than anything on this planet. I would not give her up for all the riches, or comfort, or glory in existence.

I. Am. Worn. Out.

I want to be a three-year-old for a week...

I want to make the household wake up when I say so. I want someone to efficiently fix my strawberry milk and pancakes, turn on my favorite shows, and cover my toes with a blanket that is both silky and soft. I want to wait until my cook/maid/general servant sits down for 16 seconds, then remind her that my cup is empty and I need more milk. I want to change my mind and select a DVD instead of a TV show, requiring her to get up once again to load the disc into the machine. I want to tell her when to play and what to play all day long - and all while she stays mentally on top of our schedules, my needs, my wants. I want her to anticipate my needs. I want to sit in my luxury wagon ride (with cupholders!) as she hoofs it down the road in 89-degree weather and 80% humidity just to entertain me. I want her to cook my dinner, clean my dishes, clean up my toys and books. 

Then, she can run me a warm bubbly bath, clean me, and help me into my favorite cozy jammies. She - or even the back-up servant at this point - can then hug me, read to me, and sing to me as I ease into a peaceful comfort. I want to be tucked into my big girl bed and given one extra kiss goodnight. I want to know that I am always safe. That I am always cared for. That I have no responsibility of my own.

I want to be a three-year-old. I want this for seven straight days.

Full service.

No worries.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll be refreshed enough to take over again.

- - - - -

Added note:  I wrote this Sunday night. Monday morning, my child slept until 9:04 a.m.! She has been playing independently all morning. It is noon, and I'm still wearing my PJs. Thank you child, for knowing what Mommy needed. I'll still take a week of being you but for now, this will do.
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