Exhaustion is starting to get the best of me. My creativity is nonexistent. My drive to do anything other than simply be is gone. Even my body aches and begs for the sleep I desperately need.
Maya is up in the middle of the night, every single night, around 3:30am, and then she wakes up all sparkly and ready to go at 5:30am. Last night she was up twice and still awoke at her usual crack-of-down hour. Once she’s up, she is unstoppable until she crashes around 9 or 9:30 at night, pausing only briefly for her afternoon nap. There is no rest. To top it off, she’s a loud girl. LOUD. She loves her voice and wants everyone else to enjoy it, too. As I type, she’s rolling her bottle across the floor, leaving a trail of milk across the tile, and squealing with delight.
I started to spit all of this out right before I chopped up bananas and blended apple, cinnamon, and oatmeal for miss sassy pants. But as I made her breakfast, which she heartily gobbled up, I wondered why in the world I was complaining. Maya is a healthy, happy, gorgeous girl with one helluva personality.
Yes, I am tired. Sometimes I have to slap my face to keep my eyes from rolling back into their sockets. But I’m a mom, and for all of us hands-on parents (especially single parents) this is simply a fact of life. We lead unbelievably busy lives, and if we stop to dwell on the negatives or think about the freedom the other half has, we will only succeed in loading ourselves down with resentment.
That which you focus on grows. I’ve heard it a thousand times and it’s absolutely true. When I think about how tired I am, every cell in my body seems to droop. If I say my creativity is disappearing, then that’s exactly what occurs. If I think that having an active, loud baby is exhausting, then I start to envision her as some sort of energy-sucker instead of the curious, happy girl she is.
The act of complaining robs me of the joy in my life. We do it to ourselves all the time. I don’t want to become that person. I want a life full of love, laughs, creativity, and play, which means I’ll have a full life; no time for complaining about how tired I am. Yes, I yearn for the day when I will be able to use the bathroom without an audience or fix dinner without a monkey clinging to me and biting the backs of my legs, but…
Right now she is a mess from stuffing bananas in her face (and smearing them on her pajamas) and she’s pushing around her walker, giggling and blowing raspberries on whatever she strolls by. Yes, I could probably use a few more hours of sleep, but so what. I get to chase around this sweet thing:
Now, it’s time for me to throw open the windows, let some light in, clean up the munchkin, and get our butts outside while the weather is fabulous. My girl needs some fresh air and sunshine.
So do I.