Yesterday at about 1pm when my kids used to nap but now use this time to kick their energy up to the next level, I surrendered to exhaustion. I felt like my body literally shut down and I could no longer effectively take care of three year old triplets. I threw myself dramatically onto Preston’s new bed, which is quite comfortable I must say, where I laid like a corpse. I didn’t talk or move, I just lay flat on my belly, arms and legs splayed in a surrender pose. I played dead hoping that my kids would temporarily leave me alone and fend for themselves for once in their short lives.
Do what you want little triplets, I said to myself. Ruin the books, scream at each other, throw your clothes all over the floor, play in the toothpaste and drip it all around the carpet carelessly. Just don’t bug me.
It went well at first. They found it amusing that I was sleeping when I was on the mom clock. They got their blankets and covered me up. They got their doctor’s set and began to poke me and prod me. Poking and prodding me while I attempted to rest was definitely on my list of “acceptable” activities during my surrender time. I was desperate.
Then I began to fall in to that semi-conscious, unconscious place, finally finding some peace. This is when the unacceptable behavior began to take place. After a few minutes of relaxation I awoke and Preston had given Violet and Elsa a haircut. I looked down and saw little pieces of orange and brown hair all over the carpet. It could’ve been worse I suppose. He could’ve given his sisters each their own mullet. Instead, Preston just cut a big chunk out of the front part of Violet’s hair, and gently layered Elsa’s hair to where it was fairly undetectable that her three year old brother had been her barber.
Around this time I peeled myself from Preston’s bed and walked directly to Chris’s office and pleaded for his help. “You have to help me today Chris. You have to help me,” I said. “I cannot cannot do this today.” “You can’t do what?” he asked curiously. “I can’t be a mom today. I really can’t do it. I don’t have it in me today. Please help me.”
He told me that at 3:45 he would take everyone to the gym, which would give me 2 whole hours of freedom. “What time did you say Chris?” 3:45 Chris replied. 3:45!!!!!!! But, but, but, it’s only 2pm! How am I going to make it to 3:45?
I was appreciative to Chris though. I just literally didn’t think I would survive those little triplet beasts until 3:45. Just when I thought I wouldn’t survive, miraculously my energy returned to a semi-normal level rendering me sort of useful the rest of the day.
In my life I need to have a lot of energy all day. I really struggle with this. There are hard core drugs I could take like Meth or Heroin that could get me that energy I need to make it through my days but there are obvious drawbacks to this. There is caffeine but I have found that a soda or a latte in the middle of the day is kind of the equivalent of taking one Advil for a migraine. I would need about six sodas and lattes to really give me the jolt I need to survive all that I need to do in a day, but that is just not healthy or practical. I asked my sister if she has a trick to creating more energy in those slow dragging-ass afternoons and she likes Go-Girl energy drinks. I have never tried one, so that is an option. I asked my doctor what I can do for more energy and she said vitamins; in particular the B-complex group of vitamins. Taking a vitamin for my situation seems a little like putting an ice pack on a knife wound. But I bought myself some vitamins and so far all I notice is that my pee is bright yellow.
Please people — friends and readers – if you have any idea how I can inject some extra energy in myself in a healthy way, please comment.
When my kids look back on their childhood I want them to think of a mom that was playful and energetic and enthusiastic, not one that was comatose on her son’s bed in the middle of the day.
Now I must call the doctor because while I was jotting a few sentences down while I had a descent thought, my lovely daughter Elsa who was playing in Ava’s laundry hamper for some unknown reason, tipped over and hit her cheek bone on the metal part of Ava’s bed. She has an open gash that looks stitch or glue worthy. I hope I don’t freak out or throw up.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.