Things I’m Not Afraid To Admit.

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Life is fucking hard, man.

People don’t say that often enough. Maybe because they think they will sound weak or whiny. Maybe because they’re afraid of judgement. Maybe because they are worried that it’s not hard for other people. Maybe it’s just hard for them.

Maybe they’re afraid that if they open their mouths and admit to someone else that life is hard, it will mean that they just aren’t religious enough. Maybe they aren’t good enough for God to make it easier.

Maybe He can’t hear them. Maybe He isn’t even there.

I don’t believe any of that.

I long for Robbie and I to go back in time approximately 10-12 years, back to our previous life when our biggest concerns were as follows:

1. Where everyone was going to go that night,

2. What I was going to wear,

3. And how much sex was too much sex. Wait … never mind. That wasn’t a concern. So really we only had two things to worry about.

Throw in a fear of pregnancy and not having enough money to pay my $350/month rent, and that pretty much covers my early twenties. I want to go back to that time, not because I don’t want my kids or the life that I have now, but because I want to remember what it felt like to be less exhausted than I currently am. Right now, I’m close to being exhausted enough to stop showering, and if you know me, you know that this is MAJOR.

This thought hit me the other night when I was engrossed in watching a YouTube video of someone extracting impacted earwax from a man’s ear. I looked up to show Robbie, but he had fallen asleep listening to an audio book of Game of Thrones.

When I yelled, “What is happening to us?! WHO ARE WE?!?” it made him jump.

The next night, I sidled up to him and purred seductively, “Are you going to watch the rest of this baseball game?” He said, “I don’t know … I might fall asleep.”

I gathered my pillows and went to the couch, wishing for things to be less mid-thirties and more mid-twenties.

This morning I was passive-aggressively flipping through a magazine, feeling angry that I am so tired, that three-year-old children are so irrational, that my husband is just as tired as I am, that I don’t ever have time to write, and that people constantly need something from me.

Most of all, I was angry that I am becoming everything that I said I would never be.

I’m resentful, unkempt, and irritable. I yell. A lot.

I recoil when my husband touches me. I am touched out, talked out, cleaned out and incredibly tired of going to the grocery store. I’m exhausted of feeding people and cleaning up messes and hearing complaints from at least one person at all times, because there are five people in this house and no one is ever happy all at the same time and that includes me.

I’m a jerk.

I was gone for 4 days and it didn’t help. It just made me want more time away. It was a tiny drop in my dried-out bucket. I do my best to care for myself, but I still come up short. I’m being pulled in so many different directions, every day. I am asked to give more, even when I don’t have anything left, every day.

I am a frazzled mom.

That makes me wish that I could travel back in time to when life was simpler. Look how smooth our faces were. Look how close we are standing to each other. His hand is practically on my ass, and who could blame him? No one was squeezing in between us, yelling “MY Daddy!!!”

I want to warp-speed myself back to THIS.

I want to warp-speed myself back to THIS.

This is why people tell you not to rush your life — because you never know what the next season might bring. It might be really fucking hard.

You might have children stuck to you like agitated starfish for 12 hours a day.

You might have to unclog toilets and wipe up pee and chase small people who are surprisingly fast.

You might tear your hamstring in Kickboxing class because you’re getting old and you didn’t warm up properly.

As I mulled this over today in a brief moment of peace, during which I spaced out and sat completely motionless because no one needed me, I heard a sound coming from the bathroom.

“I bwush my teef.”

That’s what she was saying to me as she held up her toothbrush, smiling that double-dimpled smile that exposes her perfect toddler teeth.

I want to travel back in time.My baby just turned two and can hold full conversations.

“I bwush my teef.”

I stood there and stared at her. It was like I couldn’t breathe.

She’s so beautiful. So smart, so sweet. So cuddly and funny. She isn’t just beautiful because she’s pretty. She’s beautiful because she glows.

I am so grateful.

She held up her toothbrush. “MOUF!!!!” (That’s “mouth” in toddler-speak.)

The thing about seasons is that even on the darkest night, when the wind is howling at your door, there is still a moon in the sky. It’s not all bad, even when it’s fucking hard.

And I’m not afraid to admit that out loud, either.

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28 thoughts on “Things I’m Not Afraid To Admit.”

  2. Oh man. You took the thoughts right out of my head. So. Frazzled. So touched out, so tired of being NEEDED constantly. I would like to go 45 minutes without making anyone a snack.
    And totally with you on the standing close to each other-if we stand closer that three feet or barely touch, the freshly minted three yo screeches ‘no that’s my daddy! You get away from my daddy! No bothering each other!’ It’s a good thing she’s cute.

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  3. I’m smack dab in the middle of thinking and feeling and writing this exact same post… I mean not exactly but with the same sentiment. Because you’re right… Life is fucking hard and we have to be able to say that to each other!

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  4. “I recoil when my husband touches me. I am touched out, talked out, cleaned out and incredibly tired of going to the grocery store.” YES. You don’t sound whiny. It IS hard. Thank God for the moments when our kids take our breath away.

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  5. You will come out the other side and want to time travel back to looking at your toddler when you realize your 25 year is too busy to visit or phone you. It is hard and it changes to whole different version of hard. Very much enjoyed your article

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  6. Yes!! I have been feeling the same exact way. I went away to a yoga/meditation retreat (which aren’t even things I particularly love) last week and it was AMAZING. It was just 24 hours but it totally recharged my batteries. Until I had a fit about the laundry about 6 hours after I got home. But it was a really, really good 6 hours.

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  7. I love this piece! So honest and relatable. I am about to rejoin you in the frazzled-way-of-life (although minus the toddlers) as school ends in a week and all three will be back home with me. I’ll admit, I’ve gotten very used to my time alone, and my space to breathe, and the peace of not being pulled every which way! I have settled FULLY into this next stage! It has been an amazing time so far (I am you in a few years, unless you have more kids!) Now, I look forward to having the girls all home for the next few months BUT it’ll be a bit hard. I can admit it! Great post, Harmony.

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  9. Why bother having kids…..just marry someone rich and spend your day at the spa getting your nails done then you wouldnt feel so tired ‘!!,,!,’,,!!wihine whine or bettter suited wine wine wine

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  11. As I sit down to dinner at my dining room table, I look around me and I see nothing but empty chairs. I would trade everything I have if I could just go back in time for just one more day with my husband and children surrounding me. Embrace the chaos, tell your husband you love him, and hug your kids. I can guarantee that in the future…you are going to miss these days.

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  13. You just made this frazzled, talked out, irritable, pregnant mom of three cry. I seriously could have written this (other than the kickboxing…instead I am that unhappy chubby pregnant lady who whines for exercise). My girls are 8, 3 and 19 months and I am taking 3 University English classes to boot. I am EXHAUSTED! Tired of cleaning up after people, tired of never getting a break, tired of listening to whining and fighting and being NEEDED 24/7…but when I think that one day they won’t need me…it makes me cry too. I don’t want them to grow up either….but I am so very tired right now!

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  14. “stuck to you like agitated starfish” is my almost 3 year old every evening after I pick her up from daycare! Lol. I have to say that I absolutely LOVE your blog! I’m a single working mom. I love my life. I love my daughter. And I’m exhausted and burned out every day. Cooking, snacks, grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry, messes everywhere all the time, plunging toys out of the toilet, potty training, bedtime (oh don’t get me started on bedtime haha), being needed constantly at work and at home. Most days by the time I collapse in bed there is nothing left to give. But then when my baby climbs in bed with me in the morning , cuddles next to me and puts her chubby little hand in mine, kisses my check, and whispers “I wuv you mommy”, my heart melts. I’m reminded it’s all worth it. Thanks for this post!
    I’m following your blog by the way, because its awesome! The honesty and candor is seriously refreshing.

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  15. “stuck to you like agitated starfish” is my almost 3 year old every evening after I pick her up from daycare! Lol. I have to say that I absolutely LOVE your blog! I’m a single working mom. I love my life. I love my daughter. And I’m exhausted and burned out every day. Cooking, snacks, grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry, messes everywhere all the time, plunging toys out of the toilet, potty training, bedtime (oh don’t get me started on bedtime haha), being needed constantly at work and at home. Most days by the time I collapse in bed there is nothing left to give. But then when my baby climbs in bed with me in the morning , cuddles next to me and puts her chubby little hand in mine, kisses my check, and whispers “I wuv you mommy”, my heart melts. I’m reminded it’s all worth it. Thanks for this post!
    I’m following your blog by the way, because its awesome! The honesty and candor is seriously refreshing.

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  16. This post. (sigh…) We’re soul mates. I have four daughters, my husband and I have been married almost twelve years, and this post is dead on how I feel. This blog has become my new (therapy) safe place…love your posts.

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