The Princess is away. I hear from her at odd moments through the day and night.
The baby Dragon is across the drive at a sleepover. They knocked on the door at 7. Who comes home from a sleepover at 7?!?
The Wizard is being his usual morning nerdy self. He’s 8. He’s cuddly. He reacts strongly to moods and stress. He started the morning with a meltdown over his big brother annoying him. He has close to zero understanding of other people’s moods… he just reacts to them. I tell him – look at my face, listen to my voice. I am frustrated. I am tired. I am angry… he laughs and continues. I hold back the tears.
So… that’s 3. Goes without saying that I love all 4 of them. But my days are filled and I can barely breathe at times.
Then there’s my Knight. He doesn’t sleep at night. He wakes me to tell me he can’t sleep… or because he’s on his Xbox and he’s loud… or because he’s talking to a friend at 3am and the conversation is hilarious… or because I take the Xbox controller and he can’t sleep… or because the Internet is slow and he demands to know why… all night… every night…
His favourite saying is kms… kill myself.. I told him this morning that if he doesn’t let me sleep soon, I’m going to kill my own self.
I feel like a new mother all over again. There’s no break. At all. I want to cry in frustration all the time. I’m exhausted. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. I can’t keep up with their wants and needs and demands. The level of utter self absorption does my head in.
The Wizard has climbed into my lap. He has no sense of personal space and boundaries. He needs and he needs now. I’m still on my first coffee and he’s asked at least 675435 questions so far. There’s no conversation. He doesn’t tell me things. He asks. Demands. Sits on me and realigns himself for his own comfort. I can’t deny him the hugs he needs. But OMFG I want the space some moments.
The Knight has disappeared to his room. He’s tired. Am I supposed to care? I’m sure I woke neighbours at 4am when I got up for the 27th time to tell him to shut the f up…
I remember when I thought I’d be a good parent. I hear others horrified that someone says a ‘bad’ word in front of their kids… oh honey, I say them AT mine…
Friends see the surface. You’re a single mum of four kids. You’re a great mum.
No… come see me at 4am or 6 am or 8am… my deadly times… see me at arsenic hour or after I’ve tucked them in for the 571st time tonight and it’s nearly midnight. See me when they just won’t freaking sleep or let me sleep. When they bicker with each other or cause havoc in their own frustration. When I count yet another bruise on my thighs (9 atm) or shins (6) because they’ve left yet more crap in a walkway and I’ve tripped yet again.
Or better yet… come take over for an hour or two… take my phone and take my kids… leave my house and leave me in peace… just an hour or two of utter silence.