why can't i get out of bed?
The story
well, here i am, 39 years old, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering why the heck i just can't seem to muster the energy to get out of bed. the relentless demands of family life have started to weigh me down, and the worst part is, it feels like no one notices. my three children, as much as i love them to pieces, are like tiny CEOs of their own chaotic corporations. breakfast, school drop-offs, extracurricular activities, homework, the list is endless. and my husband? 🤨 let's just say he's not exactly earning the father-of-the-year trophy. he's more of a silent partner in this venture, contributing minimally while i manage the lion’s share.
every day is a revolving door of tasks dictated by invisible time cards that pull me in every direction but towards what i need—rest. i’ve become the go-to project manager of our household, handling everything from grocery shopping and cooking, to emergency conflict resolution between a seven-year-old and a ten-year-old over whose turn it is to sit in the prized front seat. even our toddler has demands that rival a ceo’s morning agenda. however, as the perpetual first responder, my wake-up call is earlier than a rooster's crow; pre-dawn prep, lunches to pack, and laundry that's folded to military precision.
the reality is, i’m exhausted but i can't complain; it feels like my pleas fall on deaf ears. do you ever feel like your voice is a whisper in a room of shouting voices? family dynamics are complicated puzzles, aren’t they? society tells us that juggling motherhood, marriage, and a personal career is doable if we just try hard enough. but trust me, it's like trying to align misfit puzzle pieces. yet each morning, there remains the faint, stubborn hope that today will be the day my husband is better attuned or that the kids will navigate their own battles without conscription of 'mom' as their referee.
i find solace in quotes from Virginia Woolf, "Arrange whatever pieces come your way," even when those pieces have clearly lost their way. it brings me a level of optimism; there's hope in reflection and redirection, and perhaps that's where the solution lies. self-care isn't a luxury; it's a necessity. maybe it's time to reorganize the department of 'me' and delegate some tasks or even demand a little assistance in this familial startup. am i seeking too much? maybe. or perhaps it all starts by simply getting out of bed—one foot at a time, one step closer to balance.
wtf am I doing here...
