Day 11 - God, Do You See Me?

Another morning of struggles...(sigh).

Last night, I was once again completely dead tired after having worked all day. I arrive home to three children who all need my attention and time.

But I'm so tired, all I want to do is sit out in the back yard and stare blankly at the kids as they play on the swings or play in the yard. I'm a total zombie.

"Mama, watch me!" "Mama, I'm hungry." "Mom, teach me to shave my legs." "Mom, the dog wasn't fed yet." "Mom, can I go to a friend's for a sleepover." "Mom, can we bake cookies together?" "Mom, look what I drew!" "Mom, I rearranged my room. Come see!" "Mom, the cat's out of cat food." "Mom, we're almost out of milk." And on and on and on and on...

Where's my spouse? Not at home because he works evenings, as well as days. As usual, I'm doing this alone.

I drag myself up and out of the lounge chair in the back yard and begin the monotonous and tedious nightly routine: feed the dog, cook dinner, pick up the kitchen, do a load of laundry, squeeze in 20 minutes on the home computer, make a few phone calls to my closest friends to maintain my relationship with them, bath time for the little one, middle child cries because she hasn't had one-on-one time, read bedtime books, tuck the children into their respective beds...and collapse into a deep sleep.

I woke up this morning to get ready for work. But my youngest woke up, too. So not only am I trying to get myself ready for my daily grind, but I have a toddler in tow. "Mama! Hold me!" "Mama, I need to go potty." "Mama, I want my bottle." "Mama, I want to watch a movie." "Mama, I'm hungry."

I ended up tossing her into a warm bathtub with me. At least I can keep an eye on her while I'm bathing. My husband is sawing logs in his bed -- I mean OUR bed, although I never sleep there. I'm always so exhausted when I snuggle my kids into their beds that I end up sleeping with one of them the whole night.

I get dressed, dress my toddler -- who is screaming because she doesn't want to wear the outfit I picked out for her -- and apply a quick coat of makeup. I have no time to properly style my hair. I pull it back into a clip. Oh, well. The attorneys where I work don't even notice, I'm sure.

I frantically wake up my husband, "I'm leaving! You have to get out of bed now and watch the baby."

He's exhausted. He lays there, trying to pretend this isn't his life, too.

I say to husband as he climbs out of bed, bleary-eyed and still partly asleep: "You know, I figured out that if I watch two children in our home, I can be a stay-at-home mom."

He gets extremely agitated. We've been over this subject a million times in the past six month ad nauseum to him.

"We wouldn't have health insurance if you stayed at home. Your job provides the family's health insurance." He is actually about to start yelling.

"I don't care. Why do I have to be the one to provide that? You're the head of the home. YOU do it," I shout.

And I slam 100-year-old Victorian front door as I make my way to my truck, tears welling up in my eyes.

I drove to work...but I don't remember one bit of it. I'm sitting at my desk writing this when I should be working.

"God, do you see my struggles? Do you see that I want to stay at home with my children? Please, help us find a way."