Today was the first day since I became a mother of three children (ages 4 and under) that I felt like I really might have a nervous breakdown. 

So I went through a list of things in my head that would make me feel better: Can I drink? No. It’s only 1 p.m. 

Can I take a nap? No. Children are crying.

Can I take a bath? Can I lock myself in a room somewhere? No. And no.

So here’s what I did. I drank some tea. Yes, really. I’m not joking, it was tea. And then I took a few nice, calm pictures to look at after they were all in bed so I could think to myself, “Oh, that wasn’t so bad.”

See, the picture thing totally worked. I’m already thinking to myself, “I didn’t have a bad day, really. It could have been worse.” Because honey … I know worse. Just take a gander at all of 2011’s blog entries.

I think that some mothers love the closeness of motherhood. The skin-to-skin contact, the drool, the smell of their kids, the experience of breastfeeding. It’s not that I necessarily dislike those things, but I can only handle so much of it before I need to step away. I think the term for it is “touched out.” I have three small children who are needy because they are so little, and my days are long and solitary. 

Thankfully, my trips to Crazytown after the births of my first and second children taught me some very valuable lessons. Because Husband works so much, we have an agreement that I am allowed to do pretty much whatever I need to do to stay sane. He’s very rarely on hand to help, which means I singlehandedly wrangle three kids day in and day out: meals, discipline, baths, bedtime, apologizing to the preschool for Maverick’s shenanigans … crying, tantrums, all of it

Therefore, he isn’t allowed to judge me or ask any questions other than “How much is that going to cost?” And after today, when I had to have my mother come over just so I could take a shower in peace, I decided it’s time to look into joining a gym. I was going to wait until Pepper was a little older, but apparently they will accept children 6 weeks and up SO WHAT AM I WAITING FOR?! I just have 4 more weeks to muddle through before I can enjoy a sweet hour of child-free yoga. 

Pepper’s already got her yoga pants on. She’s probably wondering, “When is she going to get her shiz together and get us to the gym?! Maybe if I scream a little more, she’ll get her ass in gear … “ 

My ass is in gear. Thank you daughter for helping me snap out of my fog — we have been in the house for entirely too many days in a row. Tomorrow we’ll go for a walk in the sun, and avoid traveling anyplace with “Crazy” in the name. Namaste!

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