I don’t want to do this today.
Not the have children, stay at home, reap the rewards of a smile and a hug, part. But the sassy mouth, “Mommy I want…”, fighting children, diaper changing, food preparing, nose wiping, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy”, part of it.
I suppose I am just burnt out. Tired of the constant whining, needing, messiness, personality disorders, doing it all alone, days I have. Tired of telling them no, watching them do it anyway, and then having to be the one that disciplines, re-disciplines, and disciplines some more, only to have them do it again.
I am tired.
I don’t want to fold the laundry for the 878th day in a row. Or do the dishes for the second time this morning. Or wipe down the counters, sweep the ever dirty floors, clean messes off the toilets, pick up the toys, the shoes, the many clothes they put on all day, or them for the 50th time in an hour.
I am tired of the constant, unwavering, screaming and fighting and hitting – them, not me – pushing, shoving, smacking, yelling, inability to share, crying relationship they all have with each other.
I really do just need to go buy that ref uniform, put it on over my maid’s uniform, and layer it with my apron.
Most days, I am ok. Happy to oblige and put effort into my daily life and parenting of my little girls. Most days I get up and want to do better. Accomplish more than the mundane, rigorous, routine of it all. Twenty percent of the time, I succeed. The rest of the time, I just resolve to try again tomorrow.
Today, I don’t want to try.
I want to sit. Stare. Not listen. Do nothing. And have peace.
It won’t happen, I know that. And I will get up and shut off my computer and get it done. Because it is my job. A job generously given to me by God. A job I asked for, even if I did not read the fine print. A job, on most days, I really try to excel at.
But today. I don’t want to do this today.