Lately I have been posting a lot about losing my mind. I wish I could do a post for you with tips for inexpensive Halloween costumes or tricks for getting toddlers to eat their veggies but from here at the intersection of Fried and Frazzled, I can only offer an exasperated sigh and run my fingers through my long overdue for a deep conditioning hair. I’m running on empty.
Sun-Bun started kindergarten in August and for the first month I was Super-Mom. Each morning we were out the door for seven, needing to first drop Pookie at daycare, then Sun-Bun to the school yard and then me to the office for eight (the school bell rings at 7:35). Lunches were packed the night before, outfits were color coordinated, niceties were exchanged with parents and each teacher’s newsletter was read as if it were a press release from the White House. I felt good. I felt in control.
Then slowly, my mojo began to fade. I hit snooze on the alarm at five each morning, pulling the sheets up tight around my neck not wanting to think about the morning whining “I’m tired” or endless add-ons for daycare and school “It’s purple day!” or “Remember three dollars for smoothies!” Lunches fizzled from sandwiches cut into fun shapes to whatever I could find in the fridge, until even that ran dry and on one particularly bad day Sun-Bun’s lunch consisted of Saltines with jam, a banana and two Tic-tac’s. Pookie went on a favorite shirt kick and insisted on wearing the same t-shirt. Every. Day. I lacked the strength or creativity to persuade him to change until his preschool teacher commented on the number of macaroni and cheese stains on it. I looked no better myself, with minimal make-up and my hair pulled into a pony tail to hide the need to color my growing grey streaks.
Now this is where I would provide a turning point. A shining light moment where I discovered what I really needed was some Hot Yoga or switched from coffee to green tea or quit my job and opened an online boutique selling lavender scented sleep masks. Alas, I have not. I look at the Holiday décor popping up in the stores and I am gripped by the need to go to bed and not get back out until the New Year. I am fried, I am frazzled and if I carry on at my current trajectory I am pretty sure within a few weeks I won’t have to worry about trying to get myself out of bed, it simply won’t be an option. I shall lay with my head on the pillow while my children gently stroke my hair (now completely grey), offer me Jell-O, bow their heads and whisper to each other “She used to be Super.”