Today I am overwhelmed. I am stressed. I am frazzled. I am looking around me and seeing 4893048309 things that need to be done, yet not being able to pin point the ONE thing I need to start with.
This morning, I woke up and nursed baby, changed diaper, sat on the couch to help Eva eat her breakfast (which my husband so graciously makes every single day), stopped baby from bonking her head on the table, got kids dressed, and heated up my coffee twice before ever taking a sip. I took Eva to preschool, drove 30 minutes to the closest shopping center, nursed the baby in the car, bundled her up in 45 layers to carry her into the store since I know groceries can’t fit in the cart around her seat, got groceries and necessities at Walmart, boogied home, unloaded groceries, changed world’s biggest blowout, packed baby back into car, drove to pick up toddler from preschool, came home, threw together something that hardly resembled a lunch, asked toddler to sit on her bum 87 times, fed half of toddler’s lunch to the dog, put two kids down for naps, cleaned up lunch, scrubbed highchair down for the 852nd time this week.
And then, I ate a chocolate cupcake and drank a Pepsi. Because making it through that rather normal morning seemed to get the best of me.
Sometimes life is so overwhelming that I just don’t even know where to start. I need to clean the bathroom. I need to dust. I need to update photo frames. I need to organize piles of stuff in the basement. I need to clear off our dressers. I need to finish (or, start?) Eva’s big girl room. I need to go through the kid’s closets. I need to mop. I need to vacuum. I need to clean the fridge. I need to meal plan. I need to. I need to. I need to.
I will do all of this and my husband will pee on the toilet seat, the toddler will crush her goldfish crackers into the rug, the baby will spit up on the hardwood floor and then use her own stomach to mop it up. \
And then I’ll do it again.
Today, life feels monotonous and insurmountable.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel like superwoman standing on a mountaintop tackling life head on.
But today I just don’t.