Hanging on by a Thread

Y'all, I'm at the end of my proverbial motherhood rope.

There. I've admitted it "out loud."

I've got a 13 year old who oozes negativity. The world is awful. HER world is somehow miserably boring yet extremely stressful. Of course, nothing is ever fair. Good natured, happy moments and productive conversations with her are few and far between.

My 11 year old is like a lanky, female version of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One minute, she is the jovial, happy-go-lucky kid she's always been. The next minute, without warning, she is a hormonal mess of anger and tears. 

Then, there is my 8 year old who is precariously teetering between a desire for independence and a yearning to hold on for dear life to the last shred of "I'm the baby" that is left. I often hear the paradoxical statement of "Put down your blankie/doll so you can do your multiplication problems and vocabulary" echoing from my mouth across the kitchen table in the afternoons.

The truth is, I love them dearly; with my whole heart; more than anything else on the face of this earth. But, they are driving me mad.

Add to all of this  . . . . . 

• my part time job (that I love even though it sometimes feels more like full time)
• the groceries that must be bought (because, I swear, these kids are ALWAYS hungry)
• the laundry (that, apparently procreates overnight while we sleep)
• the dishes (that simply refuse to jump into the dishwasher all by themselves)
• the schedules (riding lessons, piano lessons, school performances and meetings, appointments, family gatherings . . and the list goes on)
• and the countless miles I drive getting everyone to everywhere they need to be . . . . 

and, well, I'm drowning. I'm furiously kicking and flailing in an attempt to tread water, but I'm barely staying afloat. Just barely.

So, then, I become another part of the problem. Exhausted and short-tempered myself, I get frustrated, snippy, and disengaged. 

Then, comes the guilt, engulfing me wholly.

It's a vicious cycle, really.

Today, I'm at the end of my motherhood rope, but this too shall pass. @TheGoldenSpoons

I keep telling myself, "This is the season you're in - you just have to wait it out" and "This too shall pass." And, it will pass. I know it will.

I've told myself all those things before. I said it when I was in the throes of potty training and temper tantrums. I said it when I had three girls under six. I said it when they were all in school all day for the first time. 

I said it would pass and it did.

Now, I'm saying it again.

I survived all those other "seasons" and I will survive this one, too.

Someday in the future, this house will be quiet. I'll miss the activity and the noise. I'll look back on these days and, even though I will remember that they were hard, I will think of them fondly and wonder how it is possible for time to fly by so fast. 

Someday. A week or a month or a year from now. It will pass and seem like just a blip on the radar. Someday. 

But, today, I hanging on by a thread.

How do you get through the difficult "seasons?"

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This post is part of the Finish the Sentence Friday Linkup hosted by:

Kristi of Finding Ninee

This week's sentence was "In the future . . . . "