We all have fuses.
Some are longer than others.
We all have our triggers.
This week, my fuse was lit.
Over and over again until I could take no more.
My patience was tested within an inch of its life.
Meals uneaten.
The complaints about EVERYTHING.
The fighting. The taunting. The temper tantrums.
The endless cooking and cleaning.
Picking up after everyone.
Trying with every inch of my being, not to completely lose my shit, and just runaway and join the Circus.
The reality hitting, that I am living in one already, but I am not even close to being the Ringmaster.
Just another Clown.
I am not the Warden, but just another Inmate.
This week has been a serving of humble pie.
A reminder of how utterly physically and mentally exhausting being a parent is.
How thankless and taxing it is.
How lonely it can be.
An island of isolation.
This week has prompted me to reminisce about how completely necessary self care is.
That as parents, we all need to recharge our batteries.
We can't perform if the tank is empty, the enthusiasm dead, the joie de vivre absent.
No one will win in that scenario.
Not the kids or I.
In fact, everyone loses.
The misery palpable.
Sometimes we literally need to escape.
And not let ourselves feel even the slightest bit of guilt.
I am calling it self preservation.
Off I go.
See you kids in a few!
Xoxo,
C.
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