My children are fed, clothed and bathed. They are my world and I love them fiercely. I make sure they are taken care of. I am a good mom.
But I'm not the mom I want to be. I'm not the person I want to be.
I know Elsie is still so young, and in a short while life will look so much different. I know Ryann is at a trying age and is head strong and that isn't my fault.
But I'm tired of just surviving the day.
I hate myself for being short with Ryann. I know that only makes her push back harder. But in the heat of the moment when she is testing the very last of my paitence, I snap. I can't stop myself.
I can't tell you the last time I did a craft with her, or the last time we worked on learning any academics. Are those things necessary? No. But I WANT to do them. I just haven't managed to figure it all out yet.
My house is always a mess. I rarely wear make-up. The same two laundry baskets full of random crap have been sitting on my bedroom floor for longer than I can remember. I just don't know what to do with the stuff that's in there.
By the time my husband gets home everyday, I'm almost always in a crappy mood. I'm sure he dreads walking in the door daily. We don't spend enough time with each other. After the frantic evening circus of playtime, dinner, baths and bed I retreat into my own head, not wanting to talk or do anything. Hoping that Elsie will miraculously sleep past 2am.
I want so badly to make good on my New Year's resolution. I want to be happy and enjoy life and my kids and my family. But every single day I let something drag me down.
I don't know what it is going to take to get out of this funk, but I hope I can figure it out soon.