I’m writing today to chat about 2 things.
The first, is
I can literally clean pretty much anything with a baby wipe.
iPhone, MacBook, dirty faces before entering fancy places, awesome use a moist tp, hardwood floor juice spills, make-up remover, thrift store toy cleaner, TV wipe-r down-er, sticky fingers, shopping cart cleaner, helps tame Cade’s mane (usually before entering fancy places), momma’s glasses, chalkboard washer, vomit remover off the sheets (in small amounts), and I mean the list goes on, and on, and on.
We go through probably a pack to two packs a week, more when things are dirty around the house, like, non-baby-rear-end items. Or when baby-rear-end-items are super dirty. We go through a crap ton of wipes (pun), like 3 packages, when the non-rear-end-items are filthy AND the actual rear-ends are filthy. We call that Thursday around here.
And let me just tell you, there is a reason I stop responding to texts and such on that day, because like the wipes we go through on that day, that’s how much of my sanity goes in the shitter too. Like, picture my sanity as a package of Meijer Brand Shea Butter Wipes (72 count). Everytime a diaper is dirtied, a juice is spilled, a vomit is let out of Port’s tummy, not only is an actual handful of wipes used, but my “imaginary sanity wipes” go right out with them. The problem being, there is not a replacement pack for Momma’s sanity wipes. There is one pack. and when they’re gone?
THEY IS GONE.
I’m writing about 2 things remember? That was only one, so let me introduce you to the other item, and that is
I now get Wednesday evening and every other Friday night breaks from one or both of my children.
Now, before anyone gets snippy. I want to cover some basics with you.
I was once one of those mom’s that hated when other mom’s said they needed ‘breaks’ more than once, like, every year. Because in all reality, we chose to be parents, now suck it up.
Now I realize that WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING.
That basically mind-exploded in my thoughts last week or so, when I really thought about locking myself in the bathroom all day from exhaustion, and also so I didn’t have to face the super-intimidating mound of dishes in my sink. I’m not kidding. No eye-contact with that S.O.B.
–And then my mom came over, and I cried, and she held me, and she also avoided eye contact with the dish mound, because she knew it would eat her face with no guilt.–
Basically, at that break down moment, she told me that every Wednesday, she wants to pick the kids up at 2:00pm and keep them for the evening.
“So you can do work stuff, or house stuff, or take a nap, or a bath, or Drew.”
(Because my mom is better than your mom, that’s why)
So I said yes. Take them every Wednesday evening.
and then came the guilt.
and then came reality.
And reality is really simple and it goes like this:
I love my kids.
I love them so much it kills me to respond to them in a way that is not my 100% best, because they deserve my 100% best.
The Reality, the bitch, is that I have no patience.
I have none at this current state of being.
(I just took the time to write it all out, write out all I’m doing so that a once a week break is justifiable, justifiable to those judgementals reading this. but you know what, I deleted it. Because, guess what, ladies, your opinion of how I’m running my ship doesn’t matter to me, because you aren’t on it.)
At the end of the day, I want my kids to know that I responded to them with love, and if they aren’t getting that, then I need to fix something. So I’m getting a break. Every Wednesday evening from my momma, and every-other Friday night from my Dad. Cade loves that time with the big kids, and I love that time alone with P.
It is now truer and clearer to me than ever, though I can wipe the shit off almost anything with a baby wipe (pun, again), judgmental women and mothers are some of the cruelest individuals on the planet, because they are criticizing our ability to parent our own children, and that hurts something fierce.
I am refusing to do that anymore. I am refusing to judge any of you. I am refusing to pretend I know an ultimate right way to do things because I’m not on your ship.
With that said, I want to say something to the momma’s reading this.
I am so proud of the love you have for your babies.
I am so proud that you are doing everything you can to make sure they grow to be happy, healthy, loved individuals.
You deserve the respect of every parent on this planet, because you are working your asses off, and you are doing awesome.
Thank you for loving your kids,
and thank you for not judging me when I wipe my own ass with baby wipes because there is no more tp.