It all escalated the week my 2-year-old stopped napping. The three-hour naps just collapsed, like a bridge, eliminating my primary connection to silence and solitude each day. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t realize how it would affect me until it happened.
I was too tired to even cry.
That makes me feel like a failure—like I cannot manage my own life—so I internalize my anger.
The house is almost always a mess. I want so badly for my husband to take a turn cooking dinner and cleaning every once in a while, but he works so hard to provide for us and comes home so tired. Not to mention, he takes care of the cars, the trash, the recycling, and installing the AC window units—all without a garage or a complaint.
That makes me feel bad for getting angry with him when he misses so many goodnight hugs and kisses from the children because of work, so swallow my anger.
I want so badly to have time to myself each day, so I turn on the TV for the children or lay out a game. I sit at my desk for a few minutes, and the kids either crawl on my lap, pleading to be played with, or they start fighting when they get bored. I’m so frustrated that my husband gets time to himself when he gets home while I entertain the kids, but no one is there for me when I need space.Read full article HERE