Several of you saw Chas’s comment from Friday’s post, so I’ll give you the short version of what happened. I posted something earlier Friday telling more about what was happening with me. Immediately after I hit publish, I realized how much of a pity party it was. I felt too vulnerable and was already mentally reviewing the kinds of well-meaning comments I would receive. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle even your sympathy, so I pulled the post. It was probably up there all of about five minutes, so Chas was certainly on the ball to catch it at all.
So for the rest of you that missed it, here’s what it was about, minus most of the self-pity. I’ve been down. That’s all. There’s no reason behind it, no family tragedy or great earth-shaking life event to spur it on. Just out of nowhere, it’s felt like a great task to get out of bed and go through another day of mommying.
This weekend was better, probably because I had M here all day to lean on, but it’s back a bit today. I’m sure having to change about twelve poopy diapers in the last 24 hours hasn’t helped any. Worrying about my rambunctious toddler’s first stomach virus, first bouts of diarrhea, first taste of Pedialyte–all of that continues to drain what little I have to give.
It’s just tough, this mommying stuff. It’s tougher than they (whoever “they” are) let on. I’m learning that there are days when you aren’t just playing the martyr by giving of yourself until there’s nothing left; you actually ARE the martyr, through no true choice of your own. And still you keep on giving, because no matter how far you get to the end of your rope, your kids still come first.
I’ll get over this eventually, I’m sure of that. I never stay down too long when this happens. Just don’t expect me to write too much about what’s really going on until I’m past this phase. I’ll probably be sticking to lighter topics in the meantime.