I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Kids aren’t good at very many things, but they are good at going berserk on their parents for no reason.
After a while, you get used to their antics, and learn enough about their irrational ways that you can properly anticipate, and safely weather, one of their outbursts.
If you’re not yet schooled in the five stages of throwing a fit, don’t worry. I’m here to help.
Last week, I wrote about the sleep deprivation, the loss of both quantity and quality of sleep, that comes with being a parent.
Even after sleep training, even when they’re older, your sleep schedule gets shredded.
Today, I thought I’d share a timeline of the typical night in the Buried household, from when we put Detective Munch down to bed and from when he gets us up the next morning.
Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy night.
I am the hardest working dad in the world. (Granted, I’m only a dad, so it’s a low bar, but my gender is not my fault. It’s GOD’s fault!)
You’re probably wondering what makes me, Dad and Buried, the hardest working dad in the world. Well, for starters, I have a ten-week-old baby and a five-year-old son and both of them are still alive!
HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?
Parenting is such an incredible, all-consuming experience that it causes you to feel emotions differently than you’ve ever felt them before. Caring for your children causes many emotions to come on more strongly, and more quickly, than they used to.
Not only do you often find yourself feeling myriad emotions in quick succession, if not all at once – many of them new emotions you may not have experienced before – but you also find yourself experiencing the same ones, good and bad, every day, over and over again.
Especially if you have more than one child.
You may have noticed that “being tired” is a recurring theme on my blog, because my blog is about parenting, and being tired is one of parenting‘s recurring themes. Yay kids!
I knew – we all knew – that being tired was part of the deal before I had my first kid, and it’s not the tiredness that bugs me. No, my problem isn’t that I’m exhausted, or my constant sleep deprivation; I knew my quantity of sleep would suffer. It’s the quality of sleep I miss the most!
Two kids deep, the little sleep I do get has become a battleground. Every night, there’s a five-year-old in my bed, keeping me awake for no discernible reason, and a baby in my bed, keeping me awake just because he doesn’t want to starve to death!
Together, the little leeches have stolen my sanctuary from me.