I’m so tired.
I’m more tired now than I was when she was a newborn.
Okay, maybe that’s not true.
But I am tired.
I’m tired of trying to do it all. Yesterday was long. I wasn’t up for a day of work-me and mommy-me all occupying the same space all at the same time. She knows it. And I feel guilty. I should always be up for it. I should always be up for her.
But I’m human.
I tried to make it up to her today. We did some of her favorite activities this evening. We shared a snack and colored with marker on the box that her diapers were delivered in. She loves coloring on those boxes. And, apparently, on her face. There is still a faint trace of purple on her left cheek because Crayola can call those things ‘washable’ all they want but it still takes a couple of washings.
And now, she sleeps. And I struggle to recharge so that tomorrow can be better. Each day is a chance to be better. For me. And her.
And I’m grateful for the chance.
But I’m tired.