Monday, August 27, 2007

Mom on the Run

Today is tough. I've been weepy and snappy. My poor kids. For some reason, I'm pretty sure I don't want this life anymore. It started last night. I looked around the house at the mess before I went to bed. It was a busy day yesterday and the time that I did have to clean the house, my partner was out with the kids, so instead of cleaning, I bathed, exercised, got a birthday gift for the party we'd be attending shortly, then spent some time reading through my old diaries and writing I've collected since teenagehood. When I went to bed last night, I didn't dread the cleaning I'd have to do today. I just sighed inwardly at the monotony of my existence and what I don't have to look forward to.

Then when I got up this morning, my kids were driving me crazy. They weren't doing anything different than usual. But it drove me nuts nonetheless. I started my cleaning and I was weeping quietly so the kids wouldn't notice all morning. I didn't even know why. I just couldn't stop. I kept imagining running away. I imagined myself phoning up my daughter's dad and telling him to come get her, then dropping my son off with his dad at work. I didn't imagine my plan beyond that except that I wouldn't spend my days cleaning house and struggling with children.

While I bathed, I felt like I was regrouping. I started to build myself up again to face the rest of the day. But before I even left the bathroom I heard my daughter scream at my son. I went into their room to see what was the problem. There was bright red nail polish all over the carpet - at least it matches the bright red felt that is also all over the carpet. I was beyond getting mad. I went and got the nail polish remover and a rag and proceeded to try and remove the polish from the carpet. It did not come off and I found myself weeping uncontrollably again.

Since then I've felt like a zombie going through the motions of living. When my daughter cried out that my son hit her, I told her simply "hit him back." When my son came running to tell me that my daughter hit him. I said the same thing. I don't care anymore.

That feeling I normally have of utter and complete love for my children isn't there today. I feel like they are strangers. And I am living this monotonous existence of housecleaning and making meals.

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