Thursday, December 19, 2013

All I want for Christmas

Ive been asked over and over again, "what do you want for Christmas?".  I've given loads of different answers, and I've really enjoyed thinking about what I'd ask for if money wasn't a factor.  A Mark 3 and Canon 70-200 f/2.8L USM II lens, Godiva's entire ultimate dessert truffle collection, a bottomless Sephora gift card to replace all the creams I magically seemed to run out of all at the same time (exactly the opposite of what happens to my shampoo and conditioner set).  Of course, after reviewing my list, my husband proudly stated he knew exactly what he was getting me-- and it was none of the things I'd named.

This was my exact reaction to my husband after he said that

However, when I really stopped to think, the only thing that really, honestly appealed to me was something not so christmassy.  

All I want for Christmas is to be left alone.

Yes, all I want is solitude.  For a week.  Or at least a few days.  

Over the past month I've had every ounce of energy unceremoniously bled from me.  A's school shamelessly begging for money or time over and over again.  "$5 for a group gift for this person!  $3 for a group gift for the janitorial staff!  $5 more for the secretaries!  Oh and we're also having 14 different fundraisers!  We also need volunteers every day this week!  Stay at home moms, when your nail polish dries and you're done with your Starbucks, can you volunteer a few hours?!  And while you're at it, if you could possibly take a break from your soap operas, here is a GIANT STACK of homework for your Kindergartener to do, half due by Friday, half due after the holidays!  Thaaaaaaanks!"  I'm really not sure what they think I do all day, but assigning a "family homework project" on top of 3 other different projects really makes me want to slap somebody.  And a buttload of solicitations for money and fundraisers right before Christmas?  A childless person thought of this, I guarantee it.

Then there's the general hecticness (hecticocity?  hecticeration?) of the holiday season.  I'm pretty sure elf on the shelf puts out inaudible subliminal messages that go a little something like this: 
"If you don't make homemade gifts for all of your friends, you obviously don't love them"
"Your children are going to grow up to become mass murderers because you didn't do enough Christmas crafts with them this year"
"Another chocolate?  Is that really necessary, fatty?"
"I know you just returned from a 2 hour trip to Target with your children that was so fun it resulted in thoughts of suicide, but hey, you forgot a gift for your sister.  And the only thing she wants is at Target."
"You know what sounds delicious?  A food you can only find at the mall!  You should totally go there a week before Christmas!  It's a good idea!  I SWEAR!"  (2 hours of traffic later...)

I also have 3 kids.  Well, 3.9 kids.  The three that are outside of my body are being given more and more sugar every day by people who obviously have a death wish, and because of this, are listening to me less and less.  The .9 of a child I have within me is sucking every last nutrient from my body, so that I feel nothing but lethargy and the emotional mood swings of an over-tired toddler.  And wouldn't you know my husband has had to work EXTREMELY long hours every day this month?  Funny coincidence!  It's basically anarchy at my house.  Hammy started coloring on the walls after spending 1.5 hours screaming, refusing to nap, and honestly all I could think is "he's being quiet, and I have magic erasers.  I have exactly zero effs to give right now."

I.
am.
exhausted.

Even as I type this I have a 4 year old in my ear, "Mom, what are you doing?  What does e-v-e-n spell?  You forgot to clean the crayon off the wall!  Why do we have knees?  Do you like my pink shirt?  MOM?  Are you even listening to me?!"

No, dear, I'm not.  I'm trying with every ounce of energy I have left in my body to tune out all noises, and pretend I'm at a spa.



I love my babies.  I love them more than anything.  But my job does not have off hours.  I am "mommy" 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  I don't get to clock out.  And my "vacations" consist of dentist appointments where my face is drilled into with needles and other pointy objects, or OB visits where other parts of me are also invaded in the most uncomfortable ways.  I don't have to have my vacation be approved by a few fancy dressed, overpaid HR people, I get my "time off" approved by an overworked, underpaid man who is about as enthusiastic to be left alone with his kids as Kanye West is humble.

All I want for Christmas is to be left alone.

I googled "picture of mom alone on vacation and these are all the images that came up

I would like to sit in silence for at least an hour.  I would like to go 24 complete hours where the only butt I've had to wipe is my own.  I would like to only make food when I'm hungry, and have it consist of things that don't come in bite sized portions.  I want to eat food without hearing a single person whine about what it is or what it's made of!  I want to be able to sew or finish other projects without having to slap someone's hand away from it 13,000 times.

And most of all, I want to know my kids are being loved.  I hate yelling at my kids.  I don't want someone to step in and scream at them louder and faster.  I don't need renewed anger energy, I need renewed patience.  I want someone to step in and love on them, and be as patient with them as I can't be right now.  I want to know they're being fed and changed as often as they should be.  I want to be able to not think about it because I'm so confident they're safe, happy and healthy.  

So my honest answer, at this very crazy, overwhelming period of time, is that I want to be alone.  I want to be me for a week, not "mommy".  

The End.


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