The Parent Hangover
So, I've been sober for almost 8 years. I have had my fair share of hangovers, believe you me...but I also knew how to deal with them. I had a routine down on how to combat them. If I had drunk hard liquor, I knew to feed my hangover. If it was wine, I would just make myself throw up. But the biggest weapon in my arsenal when dealing with an alcoholic hangover was sleep. Lots and lots of glorious sleep.
But these weekends with Little Man are giving me hangovers of a more draining and exhaustive type. I mean, I kind of assumed we'd slow down on the amount of 'going' we did because we'd get a routine or run out of things to do or something.
But we haven't and there doesn't seem to be a chance of slowing down any time soon. And I'm tired. It's a deep exhaustion that I'm learning doesn't get touched by actual sleep.
It's the exhaustion of recovering from one of his meltdowns, having to deal with the side effects of someone being so angry at me that they completely shut down and shut me out or destroy things because it's the only outlet for their anger they know. Seeing the despair and sadness in his eyes when I put him in a time-out. To only turn around 5 minutes later and want to crawl into my lap and give me "kiss hug". It takes me awhile to come out of this cloud of fear and pain because he just can't communicate with me on what he wants or needs and I'm left standing with my heart in pieces and expected to act as if these cracks that are getting worn from being put back together so often aren't becoming permanent.
It's the bone weariness of being constantly vigilant and know where Little Man is AT ALL TIMES and what is he doing and yelling from 1/2 an acre away to "get your finger out of your nose" or worry about what he's eating (or not eating) or who he's around and is he being careful because he doesn't understand that he's small and not strong, will he trip and hurt himself when he's running 90 miles per hour, is his little heart able to keep up with his legs and not just give out on him.
It's the mental fatigue of the sheer amount of worrying I'm doing about how he's adjusting, what he's thinking, WHY WON'T YOU KEEP YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR NOSE, why he's not potty trained yet, will that dog bite him because he doesn't listen to me when I tell him to not run up to dogs, will he learn his alphabet song, why isn't he eating today, why won't he stop eating today, what does he dream about, when will he be able to tell me or ask me for what he wants or needs, when will this fascination with giving me the play-by-play of every green or red light in our path when driving anywhere end?
Oh and the big constant - is this going to end?
I've lost weight, not a lot, but it's become noticeable by some. And I realize that in my previous life, life before Little Man, I was bored a lot and so I ate. I'm not bored anymore and the food is no longer a remedy to a hangover. I haven't found the cure for this hangover yet and maybe I don't. Maybe this is what being a mom is all about, the mental exhaustion, the worry, the fear...
I was going to go out to google and find an image of an exhausted woman and then thought...'well, hell, I'm exhausted...take a damn picture'
But these weekends with Little Man are giving me hangovers of a more draining and exhaustive type. I mean, I kind of assumed we'd slow down on the amount of 'going' we did because we'd get a routine or run out of things to do or something.
But we haven't and there doesn't seem to be a chance of slowing down any time soon. And I'm tired. It's a deep exhaustion that I'm learning doesn't get touched by actual sleep.
It's the exhaustion of recovering from one of his meltdowns, having to deal with the side effects of someone being so angry at me that they completely shut down and shut me out or destroy things because it's the only outlet for their anger they know. Seeing the despair and sadness in his eyes when I put him in a time-out. To only turn around 5 minutes later and want to crawl into my lap and give me "kiss hug". It takes me awhile to come out of this cloud of fear and pain because he just can't communicate with me on what he wants or needs and I'm left standing with my heart in pieces and expected to act as if these cracks that are getting worn from being put back together so often aren't becoming permanent.
It's the bone weariness of being constantly vigilant and know where Little Man is AT ALL TIMES and what is he doing and yelling from 1/2 an acre away to "get your finger out of your nose" or worry about what he's eating (or not eating) or who he's around and is he being careful because he doesn't understand that he's small and not strong, will he trip and hurt himself when he's running 90 miles per hour, is his little heart able to keep up with his legs and not just give out on him.
It's the mental fatigue of the sheer amount of worrying I'm doing about how he's adjusting, what he's thinking, WHY WON'T YOU KEEP YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR NOSE, why he's not potty trained yet, will that dog bite him because he doesn't listen to me when I tell him to not run up to dogs, will he learn his alphabet song, why isn't he eating today, why won't he stop eating today, what does he dream about, when will he be able to tell me or ask me for what he wants or needs, when will this fascination with giving me the play-by-play of every green or red light in our path when driving anywhere end?
Oh and the big constant - is this going to end?
I've lost weight, not a lot, but it's become noticeable by some. And I realize that in my previous life, life before Little Man, I was bored a lot and so I ate. I'm not bored anymore and the food is no longer a remedy to a hangover. I haven't found the cure for this hangover yet and maybe I don't. Maybe this is what being a mom is all about, the mental exhaustion, the worry, the fear...
I was going to go out to google and find an image of an exhausted woman and then thought...'well, hell, I'm exhausted...take a damn picture'
 |
| Hungover but minus the booze |
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