I’m Just a Part Timer

I am tired.

I am exhausted.

My mother recently told me she doesn’t understand why I am so tired, because I only work part time. Ouch. That stung a little. Maybe I’m so tired because I wake up at 5:30am everyday, get three kids and myself up and ready for the day. Take the three said children to three different schools, come home and clean for a hour, and then head to work myself. Maybe I’m so tired because, right after I get off of work (from my part time job mind you), I head right back to the three schools and pick up each child. They begin to argue with each other right away, and I find myself playing referee again. Then there’s homework, and football practice, or ballet, or cello lessons. There’s laundry that needs to be done, dinner that has to be made, and the snack my youngest says she needs for school the next day, that I just hear about at 9:30 at night.

Maybe I’m so tired because I worry about bills all of the time, and make sure the money stretches thin enough each month. Maybe I am so tired because, along with working part time, I am a full time mother. Maybe that is why.

But I digress. I know that there are many parents who deal with the same daily battles, and I am not alone at all. By no means am I having a pity party here, believe me. It just hurts when my own mother says “you only work part time” in such a way that makes it seem like all I do the rest of the day is lazily lay around. It makes me scream!!!

It’s like the time we had just bought a new car. It was a used one, but was new to us. Had a perfect body and low miles, and we were happy because it finally felt like we were moving up. My mom came to visit, and we took my oldest daughter, who was only six at the time, to a local toy store. We got out of the car, and I see my daughter writing her name in my car with a rock!!! I yelled at her, and my mom said, “what is the big deal? It’s not like it’s a new car.” Yup. She really said that. It was a big deal, because it was the first actually nice car I had ever owned, and we paid for it ourselves. It was more than just a car, because it symbolized us becoming stable as a family, and showed we were capable of having nice things.

Maybe we just come from different places. She really has no clue about the life I have lived after they moved away from me. (That story is for another time). I love my mom, but man, sometimes I cannot believe some of the judgmental hurtful things that come out of her mouth. I don’t remember her always being this way. Maybe she was. I still love her though. She is still my mother. But I’m so tired….

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