Christmas

Once upon a time I loved Christmas. I decorated. Had more than one tree, went overboard on EVERYTHING. 

See, I had a rather lonely childhood with holidays. My parents were divorced. My mom and her family do not celebrate holidays and my dad has never been close to his family. So I never had that big gathering with grandparents,  aunts and uncles, cousins, noise and chaos. 

It was just my dad, my brother, and my sister. They were so much older than me that eventually it was just my dad and me. 

When I was 17 one of my closest friends and her family invited me to come to Christmas eve and invited me to keep coming. 

I had my own son at 20, and another at 24. Then I married at 26. Another son at 27. And then my second son passed away in March after my 3rd was born. 

That first Christmas after he was born was hard. My friends family didn't do the big Christmas eve party that year. Or the next. Accept they DID. They still invited the other family friends for that one, just not us. 

My heart hurt after my son passed, but having that tradition to look forward to helped keep me going. Without it and my Christmas spirit just went out. I haven't decorated the last two years at all. I didn't want to. I seriously considered the idea of not celebrating holidays anymore like my mom. But my husband is a very cheery holiday person. 

So this year I decided to try. But we have a newborn so I wanted to keep it small. We didn't have a tree until Christmas eve. I didn't try to convince my children that Santa was coming. I just wanted to cry the whole time. 

The little sister of my friend, who I truly view as a little sister too, messaged me how much she misses our big Christmas eve celebrations and it just hurt so much. She has a family to go home to. She still goes to her parents house each year. But I feel adrift and lost without them. THEY were the only family I had for this time. My brother is off grid and hates everyone and my sister hates my husband and makes him feel on edge and judged the whole time she's here. My father is still alive but an even bigger grinch than I feel like and hates Christmas. That seen in the grinch where Grinch is going through the phone book "hate, hate, hate..." yeah, about like that. 

I tried to get excited today for it (were celebrating a day late) but I just couldn't. I was relieved when the gifts were open and thought what a great thing it was that our kid friendly tree can just be folded up and hidden away so that the holidays are just over.

My heart just feels heavy. I just keep thinking "I HATE Christmas. I HATE this time of year." 

Maybe in 20 years when my kids are bringing their kids and spouses home I will feel differently. Or maybe they will abandon me for their spouses' big gatherings instead. All I know, is that I hate this time of year and the hurt and disappointment that fills me each time.

exhausted

Why I'm not taking a shower.

I'm exhausted. I bathed the baby, and showered both the 2 and 4 year olds. After each bath/shower I dressed them. 

Now its supposed to be my turn. But I'm so tired from the effort of caring for them... But I'm so tired from having to carrying the 2 year old down the stairs...

I announce all 3 are officially clean and dressed and my husband says "now its time for mom and dad to get clean" with a glint in his eyes. 

"But you took a shower last night."

"I'm always willing to take a shower with you"

Which means he wants attention. And you know exactly what kind I'm talking about.

I am all out of effort to give. I am LITERALLY pouring from an empty cup. A stinky, sweaty, hasn't had access to the freaking shower in 5 freaking days, empty cup. 

And he will say its not obligatory. That he doesn't EXPECT the attention. But we both know thats a lie. He will be disappointed and unhappy if it doesn't happen. We both know it. So now I have to decide. Do I take a shower and continue to pour from the empty cup while desperately trying to refill it. Or go longer without a shower so I don't have to GIVE more of myself today. 

help

I just need someone to help. And I mean, see something needs to be done and do it, not wait until I ask. 

I'm exhausted. My baby is 3 weeks old today, I was woken every 3 hours last night. This morning the first thing I did was pump for an hour, because while I'm trying to wean my production down, its not working and not pumping HURTS. 

The SECOND thing I did was get my kids up. The third was make a long list of phone calls to reschedule appointments for someone else, because when the appointments were made BY SOMEONE ELSE, no one bothered to tell me when they were, so they were all missed. 

I was honestly too tired to make myself breakfast,  or even do more than cereal for my kids. But then I went to the grocery store in hopes of finding that ONE food item I'm craving, that I haven't been able to find in enough quantity to keep me fed, because its LITERALLY the only thing that sounds good right now. 

Then I come home and make the baby a bottle. Because if I want what little milk I could produce, that I painstakingly pumped, to get used, I'm the only one who will heat it up to give it to my daughter. But I was told yesterday that if I want to do that then I need to "do it on my own time" and not leave my daughter fussing with someone else while I heat it. So I carry her up to the kitchen and begin the process. But I see the sink is overflowing with dishes, so I clear it one handed, enough to heat her bottle. Then I go change her and get her settled in her play pen, because now I know I'm going to have to do the dishes. 

I finish unloading the dishwasher. The one that everyone in the house has been pulling dishes out of since it finished running 2 days ago. Then I reload it. This takes just long enough for the milk to warm up, but longer than it took for my daughter to start crying. 

Once I get her milk in her bottle, and her and I down stairs again and all settled in to feed her, my father in law yells "weakly" down the stairs, so I tell my husband to go help him, it sounds serious. All he wanted was to make sure I'd rescheduled his appointments. Oh, and to ask if he can eat those mini pies id grabbed while at the store. Oh, and wash his bedding too. 

I stare at my tiny baby, slowly swallowing, and begin to cry. I'm so tired. I'm so hungry. And now I have even more to do. 

Once she finishes eating, and I've gotten enough burps that I feel she won't throw up what I've fed her, I lay her down and go up to make myself breakfast and the other children lunch. 

I enter my kitchen and see the heaping recycling can and the now full garbage. I think of the garbage upstairs in my room, and the other down in the media room, both full as well. So I put aside my plans of food and begin taking the garbage out. When I get out to the cans and open the recycling, I see that the last helpful person threw BAGS of recycling away. This isn't allowed. So I will have to reach into this large bin and grab these bags, to dump out, and put the bags in the actual garbage can. 

4 empty garbages later, I wash my hands and begin making food. Its 1:30. My hands shake as I twist the salt grinder, my muscles still weak from the blood loss of delivery and lack of food, and exhausted from what they have already done. I am so tempted to change my mind. To put away the real food I was going to cook and make peanut butter sandwiches for the kids and simply not eat. I'm too tired for this. And I'm not done. I still have to carry the laundry baskets up, swap the wash into the dryer and then go strip and remake my father in laws queen sized bed with 3 blankets and 4 pillows. 

So, I need help. I need someone to see the garbage can is full and take them out without me asking. I need them to remember that I've explained for 6 years that we are NOT allowed to put garbage bags into the recycling can. I need them to take the extra few minutes to empty the dishwasher when they see its still full and clean. To hold and bounce and rock my daughter while we wait for the breastmilk to warm. 

Thats all I ask. I think I can do the rest right now. I just need a little help until my body recovers enough to do it all.