Today is my second day as a 37-year-old.
Iâ€™m exhausted. Today Iâ€™m exhausted because Iâ€™m wearing my glasses instead of my contacts. I hate wearing them. I feel half blind in them. Go figure.
Iâ€™m exhausted this week already because I feel like Iâ€™m on the verge of something. And that feeling is limbo. Itâ€™s like there is something nagging me in the back of my brain. The problem is that I have no idea what it is.
Iâ€™m exhausted this month because Iâ€™m getting the full understanding that the each choice we make leads us to more choices that we have to make and before we know it we are at a place where we donâ€™t want to be. And the territory that was once familiar is now foreign, and what used to be foreign is more like home. And home isnâ€™t always welcome or welcoming.
Iâ€™m exhausted because Iâ€™m a parent. Not just from the daily routines of making sure breakfast gets eaten, showers are taken, homework is done. Itâ€™s from the constant thinking. The constant watching out, looking ahead, taking a backseat. Yes, Iâ€™m tired of putting my kid first. It feels brutal to say, and is brutal to feel, but I feel it nonetheless. Tired of being the parent in charge the majority of the time. Some weeks itâ€™s 90%, some only 75%. I dream of 50%.
Iâ€™m tired of taking a backseat to people with plumbing needs. (Seriously, donâ€™t just thank your plumber, thank your plumberâ€™s wife, because chances are she doesnâ€™t get to see her husband a whole heck of a lot during the week. And sometimes the weekends too.) If itâ€™s 10 PM and you have a clogged kitchen sink, why donâ€™t you just go ahead to bed? Iâ€™d much rather have my husband in bed and asleep at 1AM than driving than driving home from your house. (Oh, and as I was typing this, approaching 10 PM, someone was calling my husband with a kitchen stoppage. I kid you not.)