Tired. Tired because the little acrobat inside me won't let me sleep at night. Tired of the massive heartburn that occurs no matter what I eat. Tired of whining and the "But why?"s and the complaining (ironic I know) and the general non-attention of my children. Tired of all my extra responsibilities that yes indeed I know I brought upon myself so I have no one else to blame. Tired of washing the same little pairs of underwear with Thomas the Tank Engine staring back at me because a certain little boy has decided that he no longer wants to use the potty anymore. Tired of the demands of three picky eaters at dinner time, not to mention the one who pretty much refuses to eat dinner at all. ever. no exaggeration. Tired of looking all around me and seeing the 101 things that still need to be accomplished and just aren't getting done.
Not just tired, but overwhelmed. Wondering how on earth I am going to manage this when the baby comes and demands a lot more of my attention.
I guess I just need some encouragement right now. I love my family and the coming baby, but I am struggling with loving my life right now. :(
Yikes. I sound like a major complainer. Truth is, it's reality though and not everything is positive all the time.
And I've got two hyper boys screeching and racing each other up and down the stairs. My little "woe is me" moment is over. . .
