Home » Don’t Hate The Player: You Sad?

Don’t Hate The Player: You Sad?

Hate the damned game.

HATE.  THE.  GAME.

UGUGH. . . .

If you have more than one kid, you feel me. . .

The minute you turn your undivided attention to one, the other suddenly turns into spawn of Satan. . .Or anything else that will get your attention in a hurry.

Mac is STILL struggling with being knocked out of his all the time, all the attention NUMBER 1 spot.

Teddy is nine months old.

And Teddy has figured out the ONLY way he’s going to get any piece of the action is to be LOUD, ANGRY LOUD.  AND OFTEN SLEEPLESS.

Every time I try to read to Teddy or play a game, Mac starts his “You sad? Mac’s sad,” routine.

I’m conflicted about what to do when this happens. I want to validate his feelings because I’m sure if I were in his position, I’d feel sad too.

But he’s also PLAYIN’ ME.  HARD.

I.  HATE.  THIS.  GAME.

I hate that Mac pees on the floor just to get my attention.  I hate that Teddy screams in his high chair while I clean up yet another one of Mac’s messes.  I hate seeing the jealous look on Mac’s face when I try to play peek-a-boo with Teddy.

I keep telling myself they’re both going to turn out just fine. . .

And they will.

But perhaps what I hate the most is the realization that I likely cannot juggle any more children effectively.

I had my heart set on having one more and perhaps adopting too. . .

But I’m not sure that’s on the table any longer. . .

I already feel challenged with the two we have. . .

And every day I get awake vowing I’ll give more, do better, work harder. . .and every day by 3PM, I’m physically and mentally banged up.

And I wonder if the boys are too?

(Shouldn’t skip naps you little jerks).

“You sad?”

Yes.  Sometimes I am sad.  Because I’m not sure I can be everything I’m supposed to be.  Because I don’t want to let you down.  Because I wanted more children but I don’t think there will be more children.

And then. . .

hair

And then. . .There’s nose-picking and hair pulling and I remember it’s not about me.  EVER.

But if it was about me. . .just for a moment. . .My heart would surely burst fully acknowledging how lucky I am. . .having the honor of raising these booger flinging, floor pissing, absolutely amazing, adorable animals.