Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Poor Me!

The first trimester is rough stuff, isn't it?  As much as I love this tiny little baby already, he/she has worn this mama out.  I put my kids down for their nap and first, say a prayer that my oldest will nap and second, pass out in bed.  I usually wake up to my youngest shouting, "MAMA!  OUT!" through the monitor or to my oldest standing three inches from my face saying, "Mommy?  Are you awake?"  I pull the sleep from my eyes and get back in the game as fast as I can.

At first I was so grateful to have the time to nap.  With the other two, I had to work through nap time and there is nothing fun about that.  And while I appreciate the time to rest, I also miss the time for me.  I am on duty all my waking hours (especially because 8:30 has become my new bedtime) and I started feeling a need to hide away, go to some hotel room and lock the door for three hours just to BE.  That, my friends, is when you know you need a break.  

Since the hotel fantasy was out of the question, I decided to walk the dog very slowly and call my mom.  "I'm so burned out!" I complained.  I really wish I could give it a more noble word but, there it is.  I was just complaining.  "I don't have any time for myself!  They always NEED something!" I lamented.  My mom umm  hmmmed for quite awhile until I ran out of steam then asked, "Well, why don't you take some time?"  And with that, she snapped me right out of the victim role.  Almost. "Well, I guess I could.  But when?  Even my day with the sitter is full of doctor appointments!"  I sputtered trying for one last pull at sympathy.  "Okay, well, I'm glad to take them for a few hours.  I'm sure Dane would be glad to give you an evening.  Have you asked him?" she asked in a sweet and loving way.

The answer, of course, was no.  I was so busy feeling sorry for myself that I forgot that I am surrounded by friends and family that will help me to build myself back up.  But it's up to me to ask.  Why do we think we have to do it all ourselves?  Why do we think that we are better and stronger if we fight through it rather than allow the people that love us to care for us?  If any of this is sounding familiar, let's all agree to stop.  Those people are called a support system for a reason.  Let's let them do their job.

Are you good at asking for help rather than becoming a victim?  Who do you turn to when things get tough?

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