Thursday, February 18, 2010

Is This Wrong?

Babies and adults are a lot alike when they're sick. One big factor is the short fuse. I'm sick right now, and every time I encounter a rude student or a poor driver or something of the like, I feel the urge to snap and scream an entire lecture to them. This is unlike Normal Heather.

Of course, I haven't snapped yet, but there are fingernail marks in my palm. Norah doesn't have a censor button yet, so her meltdowns are loud and frequent. Dad went into the bathroom and closed the door. She collapses as if her will to live has ceased. The twisted face of anguish, a silent pause leading up to the wail.

Now, I don't blame her. She's a baby. That's how she rolls. But I'm tired.

It's not only the meltdowns. It's the sleepless nights. You get a little spoiled after a while. If I got two hours in a row sleeping during the newborn stage, I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Now? Just one 30-minute interruption in the night destroys me for the next day, especially when I'm sick. So I'm tired.

I want a break. And I feel guilty for wanting a break.

I know some might think that's stupid, everybody needs a break, and some might be thinking, "Toughen up, pussy. Moms don't get breaks." I don't know if it's okay or not. All I know is that I'd like a couple hours to myself. This seems harmless, but the guilt remains. If I did have "me time," I'd probably spend it cleaning my pit of a house to ease the guilt. Do you think Ryan cleans when he has an hour free? Hell no. It's Xbox time.

Can I want a break? Can I take a break without feeling guilty? Can I even ask someone to help me acquire this break time without feeling embarrassed or guilty? It's so ridiculous. I can't ask anyone because they'll inevitably say "Oh, of course you deserve a break!" even if they don't really feel that way. (Minnesotans are nice. Liars, but nice.)

We'll see how frazzled I am by the weekend. Maybe it will be motivation enough to ask for help. Just some trashy TV time. Maybe shopping. A haircut. Reading a pictureless book. Even finishing addressing the thank-you cards that I meant to mail a month ago.  I'll take it.

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