Frustrations of a tired mom of 5

Real and raw vent session, coming up.

Yes, that was your warning.

**addendum: While I was taking a whole 20 minutes to write this little vent, Mr Pain in my ASS (yes, I'm frustrated with my dear beloved just not right now 2 yo) took the just filled pepper shaker off the counter and shook it all over the breakfast nook we call "the addition" which is really a crappy excuse of a playroom. Dumped it all over chair, table, floor, and into the dress-up clothes bin and another bin of cars. See?!?! This is my life. And while I was multi tasking by showering myself and my baby, he then crapped in the clean towel. Yay!

Sigh. I just can't win. Ever. And certainly not today.

You should stop reading now. This is basically just for my own theraputic reasons. (Mom? That means you.)

Motherhood is kicking my ass. Actually, life in general is. But it's mostly being a mom of 5 small children, one of them being a newborn. Man are they a LOT of frickin work - the kids. Newborn too. *drops to ground in exhaustion*

Mr. Mini-monkey is doing fine, but nursing continues to be a challenge. It's a tongue thing and that's where part of the raw (literally) comes in. Holy nipple pain! And yet he cries because he's just not quite satisfied. And because he loves is mama SO DANG MUCH he just wants me to hold him non-stop. Quite frequently I even hold him while sleeping. While I'M sleeping.

I know that this utterly exhausting phase is not forever, but drudging thru it royally sucks. It's a time fraught with feelings of inadequacy, selfishness, and being overwhelmed. I don't really feel overwhelmed like I have in the past, but I see how much there is to do, know that I'm not doing most of it and what I am doing is pretty shoddy, wanting to do more, and being unable. It's more than just setting unrealistic expectations for myself. I'm not. Some things are unavoidable, like laundry and meals and groceries and homework (though even that one slides WAY too often) and parenting. My laundry is piled so high right now I've had to stomp on the pile to get it smooshed down enough that it didn't dwarf my freezer. We've eaten so much pizza, mac-n-cheese and hot dogs that even the kids are getting bored of it (well, not the pizza), but I'm not even beating myself up about that. There's a lifetime left for healthy eating. A year or two of bad eating won't kill 'em. At least not right away. But I'm feeling bad about not being able to spend enough time with them. George need some serious time given to him in terms of academics. I have not once gone over his weekly sight words with him, and every time we do his reading assignments I am starkly reminded why I need to. Cheeks gets the least amount of time as she's the quiet contented one who just grabs her blankie and sucks her fingers when she needs some love. Koko even has gotten really weepy and saying she needs attention (No, that's not guilt inducing at ALL!), and Boots clearly needs more attention as he is Mr Destructo. There's not one damned thing in my house he hasn't left his mark on at least once. New scratches in the tv, marker over so many walls I'm contemplating painting everything black, ripping the sheetrock edges off the newly built and newly painted wall in the entry (because we haven't had neither time nor money to trim it yet) and today he was biting the corner. I just cried. I didn't know what else to do. Really, I just wanted to rip his head off. He even took a marker and drew all over George's bedsheet today. My anger is really coming to a forefront with mounting frustration and lack of sleep. I've been trying really hard to go to bed early, and have been successful for the most part, but have also been woken at 3:30 am... for the DAY on more than one occasion. And last night, I elected to stay up late just to watch a movie with the hubs since I haven't spent any time with him since.. uh... I'm thinking... uh... Oh yeah. My birthday, in July - the day my sd watched the kids, only to throw it back in our faces. But nevermind that. That one's not on my plate at the moment.

I'm having a hard time with getting my kids to take on responsibility. I just can't do it all. They need to be able to dress themselves, pack up their backpack for school and not forget things like shoes. They need to be able to clean their own rooms. To keep it cleaned. But then there's Mr. Destructo. And too many frickin little pieces of toys and markers and paperclips and legos. I feel bad about resenting Christmas but all the presents my children have gotten, that I recognize have given them hours of enjoyment, are making me crazy. There's just stuff everywhere. Like, can't walk thru a room everywhere. Ugh. And I'm totally being such a cleaning Nazi it's not funny. "Pick up your crap" can be heard being said by me at least 5 times a day to each child. So 5 times (X) 3 kids is (=) too many times.

I want to enjoy parenting. I want to enjoy my family. I want an organized home. I want to relax. I want to change my underwear daily. I want to cuddle with my husband without worrying about what he "needs" from me. Because one more person groping me is so not a turn-on right now. I just can't give any more than what I'm giving. Except, sadly, what I'm giving isn't enough.

And yes. You can say "well you shouldn't have had five children then." Well, PPPPBBBBBTTTT to you.

Here ends my rant vent for today.

Now I must go pick up my kids from school.

Thank you.