I woke up this morning feeling like a two year old. Worse. A three year old. I had a completely irrational need to scream combined with an overwhelming desire to cry.
For three months, Ben has been waking up AT LEAST once a night. Usually, twice. I’m typically all “it’s only temporary. Enjoy these moments while they last.” blah blah blah. But this morning, after a double-wake kind of night, I snapped.
Ben was in bed with me, wide awake. Jack came barreling in, yelling, kicking my shins and bulldozing the baby. Next came Hudson, begging and whining to hold the baby, while Jack tried to block him. This, of course, just made Hudson cry more.
Any dreams I had of catching up on sleep were annihilated and I LOST IT! Seriously. I just yelled. No words. Not directed at any one person. Just a growly, loud “Ahhhhh!”
Ryan, my wonderful and supportive husband, was downstairs, emptying and filling the dishwasher and making me a cup of coffee just how I like it so he could bring it to me in bed. No. Seriously. He is that good to me. Still, when he came up, I snapped at him.
Then came the tears.
I just needed quiet. I needed to not be touched or climbed over. I needed to not be needed.
Poor Ryan. He calmly responded to my meltdown by taking everyone downstairs. I drank my coffee alone in bed and then I penned this little entry in my journal.
I get that I am fortunate. I am grateful for all the love and happy chaos that fills my home. But today, I felt like I was going to explode. And that’s okay because parenting is HARD!
So there I was. Wide awake and all alone. Ryan had fed the boys, done some morning yoga with them and had them all playing quietly on the third floor. Not sure what I would do without a partner like him.
I no longer had the need to scream or cry (probably because I had already screamed and cried.) I was ready to resume my role as “Mama.”
But first… one more cup of coffee.
With love from Detroit,