I suck at asking for help.
There. I said it.
And even in admitting it here, I feel like I'm wussing out.
But I really do. And I (apparently, inadvertently, unfortunately) give off this air of "having my shit together," which makes people unlikely to offer help. I once overheard an acquaintance say, about me, "She's like the ultimate mom."
Right now, I do not have my shit together. There are a lot of reasons, but long story short, I'm struggling. Yesterday was terrible. My throat hurt from yelling by the time the kids fell asleep. "Ultimate Mom" my ass. I shudder to think what someone walking by our house would have thought of me last night. (Claire has decided that she can't go pee alone, so she stands over the brand new carpet demanding that someone come watch her pee, and we've had it and we're not going along with it, because she can totally do it by herself, but she stands there and threatens to wet her pants on the new carpet until I lose my mind... And I don't know how to make it stop. Last night I told her that if she pees on my new carpet I will pee on her favorite toys, and I named names. We'll see how that goes. I hope I don't have to, but I'll totally do it if she pushes me. Look out, Biscuit the Cat.)
But I've just had it. I've been with these kids non-stop for 11 days now, without a break. That's 264 hours of parenting in a row. And I'm tired. And I have 100,000 things to do at work that I'm not doing, and I'm getting more and more stressed the longer the things build up. I feel like that old Ziggy cartoon. "God put me on earth to do a certain number of things, and right now I'm so far behind, I will never die."
I finally, tearfully admitted to BJ last night that I can't take it much longer - just in time for him to go back to work this morning. If I had a brain in my head I would've said, "Happy Memorial Day! Take the kids and go away for a while!!" yesterday morning, but I didn't. Because I can't ask for help. Because I'm an idiot.
I talked to a friend about this once, and she said she's the same way. She said that the phrase "I can do everything all by myself.... why isn't anyone helping me?!" summed up her life. I feel the same way.
In my next life, I want to be one of those wilting-flower-type women who can't make Koolaid without someone saying, "Oh honey, let me do that for you - you go put your feet up." I know a couple. They're kind of a dying breed. 100 years ago they would've been frequent fainters, who carried smelling salts (no, whose friends carried smelling salts). I don't know how they've pulled it off, but I think I would've had to start a long time ago to get anyone to go along with it. It's too late at this point. I have not managed anyone's expectations of me.
My dad's on his way over, thank goodness, so I probably won't snap today. And our new sitter Delri starts tomorrow, so I'll be able to go to work and catch up. There's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Today, my goal is to avoid yelling, and to remember to breathe.