I need a romantic holiday away. For one.

 

I need a romantic holiday away. For one.
23 February 2014

My battery feels flat.  I’m all tapped out.

My days are filled with walks in the early morning (my wee little me-time, and I love it!).  Errands and grocery shopping later in the morning.  Admin and work, squeezed in between.  Cooking at some or other point in the morning or afternoon, perhaps early evening.  Batting Jumping Castle enquiries and mails and work related sms’ back and forth.  And from 2pm, at the very latest, the crazy kid-filled afternoons start.  There’s dancing and drumming.  Cricket and gym.  Extra maths and high jump.  Loads of homework – much needed assistance.  Projects that require help.  Orals too.  Involvement at school, in terms of liaison mom duties.  Birthday parties to plan.  Carting kids to and from parties they’re attending.  Kids friends to have over.  Clothes shopping with one kid, for an upcoming sokkie.  Just stuff, and stuff, and stuff.  Continually.

It’s making me terribly tired.

But perhaps the greatest drain on my energy levels at present, is the kid-bickering in my home.  It’s normal I suppose.  Part and parcel of having kids.  But at present, all three of my kids are at three very different levels in their development.  Three different phases.  And they rub one another up.  With expert skill.  I’d go so far as saying they’ve got a knack for doing just that.

This is extremely exhausting.  As I tend to spend much of my day, policing them.  Trying to defuse tensions.

Maybe I should just leave them to it.  Let them get on with it.  The strongest will survive.  Unless, there are weapons involved – all’s fair in love and war after all.

And through it all, permeating everything, is the challenge of a kid with ADHD.  It’s hard work.  A bottomless pit of reminding to do stuff.  Saying the same stuff over and over and over again.  It’s as if there’s no residual memory.  Some things will most likely never sink in.  Telling the same kid, a few times a day, to please remember to use their safety belt, each time they get into the car, is terribly tedious.  For that kid, it’s a boring detail.  Not worth remembering on their own.  There’s too much else, to think of for them.  This is but one small example.  The list is actually endless.

Picking up the slack.  Reminding siblings to be patient.  Finding the balance and trying the pinpoint the exact spot where ADHD stops and bad behaviour starts.  Being empathetic and understanding.  Of feeling bone weary tired.

And though I try and be in control, and calm, and the voice of reason in my home.  Keeping the ship pointing steadily ahead.  Forging a course that is right and true.  Using hidden reserves of patience and compassion with all in my home.  Urging caution.  Ensuring all have their needs met.  That everyone feels heard.  And valued.  And appreciated.

It.  Is.  Making.  Me.  Exhausted.

There are just so many demands.  Each person forgets that they’re not the only one.  That while the main concern in their life is their problems, and how huge it is, it still is their ONLYy concern.  Each worries about themself.  And mainly themself.

Whereas, for a mother and wife, you take on the challenge and problems of all in your home.  Apart from that which is happening in my life, I take on that which is happening in each kids life, and my husband’s too.

And thus, I told my family yesterday, that I am in need of a romantic holiday away.  For one…

And I mean it.

To be fair, they seem to be a bit more scared of me today.  Considerate too.  Me-thinks they’re perhaps getting it.  That they’re pushing me too far.

Cause the scary thing is this – if I crack, they’re all a gonner too.

Anyway, I’m thinking Venice.  Maybe Mauritius.  At this stage, even a hotel down the road will do. 

Heck, can I crash on your couch?

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