Uncle

The last six weeks have been an absolute whirlwind.

I wanted to blog about the weekend my best friend visited from Nebraska. Jotting down memories from Tory's first birthday has been hanging over my head. I wanted to write about our last few weekends at the lake and budding friendships with new mom friends. I haven't had a minute to trim my fingernails (forget about finding time to paint them). I haven't had a chance to schedule a long-overdue haircut or make freezer meals for upcoming week-night dinners. I wanted to buy a new Crockpot and make chili one of these weekends. I've been mentally reciting Tory's recent achievements so I can record them in her baby book. The dog desperately needs a bath. Poor smelly dog. I miss reading all my favorite blogs. I have no idea what any of my Internet friends have been up to lately. My marriage is struggling. I'm mean, we're fine, but I've barely talked to my husband in weeks. We're exchanged quick kisses on the way to work and groggily said good-night before passing out from exhaustion at night. We spent Labor Day weekend in the same proximity, entertaining our family and friends during Tory's birthday celebration but I miss hanging out together when one (or both) of us weren't so cracked from the craziness. Tory barely slept the month of August. At all. I don't know if it teething, or if there was a full moon. Was she hot? Cold? Growing? Nothing? I give up guessing with her. The kid doesn't sleep. EVER. I spend the month of August holding her in a rocking chair and dumping caffeine into my body to somehow keep going.

I cry uncle. I am so tired of giving and doing for everyone else. I actually thought about getting in my car today and driving somewhere far away by myself. Just to sleep for a few hours or sit on a bench by myself. I wish my sister or my mom lived down the street so I could show up uninvited, but always welcome, plop onto their couch and lose myself in someone else's life for a hour or two.

Uncle.

I am so tired of feeling like I'm half-assing motherhood and work life and being a wife because there is never enough of me to go around. I'm giving 80% to everything and none of my efforts are enough to be perfect. I'm PMSing and even writing this, although freeing to finally have an hour to myself to dump out all these feelings, makes me feel like a failure for not being skilled enough to balance it all. I should have used the last 30 minutes to check a few of those nagging tasks of my to-do list, but I give up. I lack the motivation. I cry uncle.