Somehow, I Thought I Would Be Better


Here’s the thing. I actually feel somewhat embarrassed admitting this, but it’s where I’m at right now.

I thought it would be different.

I thought it would be better.

I thought I would be different.

I thought I would be better.

But truthfully, although things got better briefly, better eventually just became the new normal.

You see, for years, my main pains in life were the daily minutiae of which a life is made.

You know the sort.

Cooking meals. Cleaning the house. Paying bills. Sorting mail. Keeping the kitchen table clutter free. (hahahahah! Like THAT is ever going to last or happen for longer than a day or two.)

And FINALLY, these past three months, I have been making big strides. I now cook the majority of my meals and a lot of my psychic pain revolving around meal times is gone.

I’ve given up on cleaning the house, but I have vacuumed a few times, and decluttered a few times (and I could really do it a few more times), and I am finally now considering getting a housecleaner again because my house is probably filthy I’m just accustomed to its filthiness.

I sort the mail and take care of any outstanding medical bills immediately (because those are the only ones that are not on autopay – despite my best efforts to make them so). I mean, gone are the days of being 90-180 days late for no reason other than not opening mail.

But after a few months (and likely a few weeks) of my new reality, the shine has worn off and now it’s just regular old reality and I’M STILL DISSATISFIED WITH MY LIFE.

Damn you, hedonic treadmill!

And last Friday, I was talking with Dr. T about how I feel unfulfilled and like I do nothing of substance all day and how I’m still not done with my ebook despite being 95% done and how I start things but don’t finish them and how I want to try for things but I am so afraid of failure and —

And you know what? I’m terribly worried that even if I do finish that ebook that a few weeks later and it will be my new normal again and I will go about feeling BLAH about my life again. 

The irony is that during the first or second session ever with Dr. T, she mentioned that she thought some of my feelings of stress and whatever was due to my not having a clear idea of what my identity was. That it used to be tied up in work or the things I did or accomplished, and now that I am a SAHM, I felt adrift and identiy-less.

At the time, I thought she was full of crap.

Oh, the crow I eat whenever it comes to things Dr. T observes. (Seriously, the only really good decision I ever made about Dr. T and her advice was sticking with her despite me thinking her kinda woowoo at the beginning.)

And now, here I am. TOTALLY FEELING UNIDENTIFIED.

I felt somewhat comforted the other day when I saw an old post of mine pop up in Facebook Memories. I guess this is how I feel every spring.

But then, I got bummed out because it seems that no matter what I do, no matter how many successes or risks I take, it all goes back to me being terrified of failure and being immobilized by it.

I start so many things only for them to end up abandoned and collecting dust in the wayside.

I have so many ambitions and yet so little follow through.

I feel as if life is passing me by and I can’t even get my shit together enough to homeschool my children.

I feel like a huge failure. 

I don’t know if it’s my Virgo-ness, my ESFJ-ness, my Type 7 Enneagram-ness, or something else entirely (FWIW, I hold very low stock in astrological determiners of personality), but there it is.

And it’s no use telling me how I manage to keep four children alive, blah blah blah blah blah.

In my wretched mind, if I can do it, it’s not that hard, therefore it doesn’t really deserve praise.

Truthfully, I don’t know what will make me feel better. And whether if something makes me feel better, whether the feeling will be permanent or just become the new baseline.

All I know is that I feel kinda meh and blah right now.

Maybe this is how I feel every spring. Restless and desiring bigger and better things. And then life crushes it all out of me.

Anyhow, there is no neat resolution to this post. I’m still figuring it out.

Dr. T asked me what I wanted, and again, I have no idea. Except maybe to feel as if I am doing something worthwhile. (And yes, raising four small humans is eminently worthwhile – but the end result takes SO LONG.)

I want to feel as if I am productive; making something of concrete value and worth. Yet all day long, I do lots of things and am productive but it is the stuff of life. You can’t just eat once and then you’re done. (And that is DEFINITELY not possible with cleaning or laundering or the folding of the laundry.)

And so, each day, it feels as if all I did was erased and swept away by the tumult and happy clamor of my tiny and forceful humans.

It is very unsatisfactory.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m  not depressed. I’m not UNhappy. Just not SATISFIED.

I’m positive Hapa Papa is feeling the same thing (except perhaps slightly worse since he’s not very happy at his job and at least I have more free time than he does and get to stare at all my adorable babies all day).

And before people start writing in with the comments about me needing Jesus or essential oils or both, thanks. I have both. In abundance. (Seriously, I have an entire DRAWER full of oils. And I suppose I have Jesus in my heart or something. So admittedly, that might be in less abundance because I have a cold, dark heart.)

Anyhow, no neatly wrapped bow on this post because that’s not the way life works. We just keep trudging along until one day, we’re on the other side (and hopefully, feeling less blah when I actively pursue the things I think I want).

Have a good Wednesday! May you find what you’re looking for.

 

 

Incoherent Ramblings of My Sleep Deprived Mind

I am a consummate idiot. 

Instead of going to bed at 9pm last night, and possibly sleeping through the night because Sasquatch seems to be sleeping longer when he is dry (so adding an insert to his cloth diaper was super helpful), I stayed up until 3-4am playing a new to me game called Two Dots.

This is why I can’t have nice things. This is also why I have never tried drugs. Because I have an addictive personality and dammit all if I didn’t spend all day playing this stupid game. 

In fact, I am currently fighting off the incredibly strong urge to play the game in order to write this post. 

So, because I ruined my brain and likely will be super cranky today (my busiest day of the week – great planning, jackass), I give you more of the random firings of my brain. 

1) My unders still hurt. Though I have mostly stopped leaking blood, my baby squeezing out parts still ache and are kinda throbby (and not in the good throbby kinda way). 

I really hope this is normal and not because I have an infection in Lady Town. 

2) I didn’t need to mention that there is a highly likely chance of me being TMI, right? 
No one is new here. 

3) I am ravenous. 

I would say it’s because I am breastfeeding, but mostly it’s because I make poor eating choices. 

So this is the secret to how I always end up losing weight post-baby. It is because my body just does that (sorry) rather easily and also because I breastfeed a lot. (Yesterday seemed to be continuous ALL DAY.) 

But, it is also likely because I am used to not eating dinner with the family and usually prefer to eat by myself after everyone is down for the night. Except now I am super tired and often fall asleep nursing in bed (we co-sleep) and by the time I wake up it’s too late and I just say fuck it and go back to bed. 

And then, when I am up during the day, I never particularly want to eat what the kids eat so I graze and eat mostly snacks so um, yeah. 

I especially eat a lot of chocolate and Halloween candy. It is delicious. 

Bad decisions all around. 

4) Gamera did not sleep well last night. She kept sleep-talking all night and she was NOT happy in her dreams. At least once, she sleep-yelled/whined at Cookie Monster and her frenemie, Rhythm Girl

I love how she gets pissed off even in her sleep. Clearly, she is my child. 

5) So I am bummed that Cookie Monster and Gamera’s eyes have succumbed to genetics and are now both wearing glasses for reading. 

However. 

The bright side is that kid glasses are no longer horrible and awkward like when I was a kid so they are adorable. 


6) Our part of CA seems to have finally gotten the memo that it is fall and indeed, has been fall for some time now. 

I am cold. 

7) My butt and legs constantly go numb because I am always sitting and nursing Sasquatch.

I am probably getting tennis elbow because I am constantly on my phone either texting or playing Two Dots

It’s a sickness. 

8) I love getting free books at the library. But I hate how I end up paying so many fines because I am incapable of returning books on time lately. 

9) I need to find new TV shows to watch that are episodic and not a continued story arc. I started Designated Survivor and though I enjoy it, the pressure to keep watching is about to do me in. I just can’t stand all the new episodes judging me in my DVR queue. And now there are so many it seems that watching them will take too much effort. 

I still have Roots on my DVR from summer. Still haven’t come up with the commitment to watch any. 

I need another NCIS or start watching Bones reruns again. Pretty much I just need to DVR old procedurals in syndication. 

Ooooh. Psych is back on Ion. Hmmmm. This shows promise. 

10) I am super excited PharmGirl is having her baby soon. Then we can have three sets of frenemy kids. And most importantly – I don’t have to make new friends so that Sasquatch can have friends. 

WINNING!!

Now, to convince my other good friends they want a third or fourth child. 

Alright. That’s it. My brain is done. See you soon!

How to Get Your Kids to Play With Their Toys

As many of you know, my house is a mecca of toys. Is it educational? Is it a logic puzzle? Does it involve building blocks or wood or MAGNETS? Is it a Lego? Or crafty? If so, I probably own it.

I’m a sucker for anything with a magnet. Or logic. Or building.

But the thing is, my children NEVER played with these toys. They were obsessively on their iPads. Otherwise, they were busy using each other as meat punching bags and smacking the crap out of each other with Minecraft foam swords and axes and plastic pointy light sabres.

So, all that money I spent on real wood blocks and Magnatiles and Magformers, etc.? All wasted.

What really upset me was that they LOVED to play with these toys at other people’s houses. Just not mine.

Jerks.

But these past few weeks, since we got back from Taiwan, things have changed. And I think I know why.

Despite this being only a few weeks implemented, I have a feeling the changes will stick. (Possibly because most of these tips are things I have read before. I never said I was re-inventing the wheel, people!)

So, without further ado: How to Get Your Kids to Play With Their Toys:

1) Get rid of your toys.

Now, unless you already were some minimalist or just amazing (and therefore, I kinda hate you but want to be you all at the same time), you probably have way more toys than you need or want and they’re just pissing you off.

Way back in the end of February, my friend, Danielle Faust at OkDani and FitNoire wrote a post about how she threw away all (or almost all) her kids’ toys.

Now, when I read her post at the time, I agreed and thought, wow! That’s amazing! But I could never do that at my house because so many of my toys have already been culled.

I was wrong. So wrong.

And four months later (what can I say? I’m slow.), I threw out a bunch of my toys. In fact, I threw away or got rid of any toy that pissed me off – no matter how educational or age-appropriate or “good” the toy was. If it made me angry or cringe, it was out.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I still have a lot of toys. I am not getting rid of expensive toys that I love. But I did get rid of 6-8 bags of toys that I HATED.

It was a joyous and beautiful day.

2) Have a place for every toy.

I know. None of this is the stuff of genius. We read about it all the time in those organizing articles.

But it’s true.

If there’s a place for the toy, and the kids know where it belongs, then they know where to put it back when they’re done with the toy. (And the answer is NOT the floor.)

It helps if the place is a clear box so they can see what toy is in which box (especially since my kids can’t read English). I also have painter’s tape on each box with Chinese/zhuyin and English on the label so the kids and Hapa Papa know what belongs in that particular container.

About two years ago, I had an organizer come in and buy appropriate shelves and storage things so that I have plenty of space, I just need to keep them OPEN.

Sometimes, the problem isn’t so much a lack of enough organizational materials as much as a lack of space. If lack of space is a problem, confer back to point 1.

The arts and crafts center. It’s not at all neat, but it will serve.

One shelf with toys. Some have been pulled out for play.

Another shelf filled with toys.

3) Take out 2-4 activities each day.

So, I have had a pretty organized home with toys and activities for months, but STILL the kids wouldn’t play with the toys. They instead would reach for their old standbys – the swords and sabers and then proceed to beat each other to a pulp.

I was annoyed. I mean, other than the toys looking so pretty in the boxes, what’s the point of having them if the kids won’t play with them?

That’s when I remembered what our home-based preschool teacher, PW would do at the start of each class time. She also has lots of fun toys in her house, but instead of having them all put away, each class period, she would take out 3-4 activities and put them on the floor for the kids to explore.

That didn’t mean she didn’t let them play other things, but it did mean she gave them direction.

Because if you think about it, having lots of choices can be overwhelming unless you are one of those people (and by those people, I mean people such as I) who always order the same things at restaurants. Otherwise, you end up paralyzed by all the choices.

Same thing with the kids and toys.

In the face of so many toys, they go to their easy standbys and don’t even consider the other toys.

So, now, either the night before or the morning, of, I take out 2-3 activities and put them on the floor. I usually take out:

a) one type of building activity (blocks, Wedge-Its, Magnatiles)

b) one type of sorting/sensory activity (a big box of rocks, fuzzy balls, plastic dinosaurs, glass beads, etc.), and

c) one type of puzzle or other game.

And then I go against every instinct and let them keep those three activities out ALL DAY.

In fact, I far prefer this to “rotating” toys. Mostly because I don’t really have to think about “storing” toys and then remembering to “rotate” them. I hate extra work and brain power I need to exert.

4) Limit screen time.

I hate this suggestion. It’s really Captain Obvious and judgmental and self-righteous.

But it’s true.

Kids really can’t play with your toys if they’re glued to a screen.

Keep in mind, I don’t care how long your kids are on the screen. I won’t judge. My kids spent the last week in Taiwan entirely on the iPad. Like, from morning til night. For a week. Blowing through $1,000USD in Airbnb rent just like that.

I don’t judge.

However, like I mentioned before. It’s difficult for kids to play with toys if there is no opportunity for them to actually play. So, limiting some of your screen time is probably necessary.

For us, my kids are limited to 2 hours of screen time where they actually choose what they can watch. Then, I will likely add Chinese science videos or TF Boys (their current obsession) on top of that because I’m a sucker and I don’t mind.

That has made a huge difference at our house.

Now, with all their newly freed up time, and seeing all the toys I have pulled out, my kids actually play with their toys. And somehow, it’s as if a mental block was pulled from their brains. As if they remembered all the other toys our home possesses.

Not only do they play with the toys I “suggest,” they also pull out their other toys. And since I usually have most drawing and art materials out on the table, the kids use those more, too.

Before, I would force the kids to clean up right away. But now, I am a little more relaxed about it. Instead, if the floor gets dangerous and too full, that’s when I make them clean up. And then I definitely make them clean up before we go upstairs for bed.

I don’t mind the extra mess as long as the toys are used and the kids are playing with each other and not a screen.

Anyhow, I realize that nothing I suggested is mind-blowing or new. But hopefully, still helpful. And not only helpful – applicable.

Let me know what you do to get your kids to play with their toys. (Or maybe you don’t have this problem at all!) See you Friday!

Finding Your Tribe

Finding Your Tribe

I love the internet.

I know there is a seedy underbelly, but on the whole, I don’t venture in those parts. Instead, I worship at the altars of Facebook, Amazon, Google, and Wikipedia.

As an extrovert, one of the hardest things about being a SAHM is the isolation. It’s not so much that I need to be surrounded by people and constantly in networking/party mode. (In true fact, I HATE those modes. Nothing is worse to me than the same vapid conversation over and over again and my face hurting from plastering a friendly smile on my face when I have zero actual desire to smile. I digress.)

I think I just don’t like being alone. What I love is the comfort of someone else being around me – but not talking to them or interacting with them unless I have something to share (which is more often than not). Once I have the security of guaranteed company, I am more than glad to ignore them.

As a result, even though I choose to be with my children all day, I crave and desire company. Unfortunately, it is not enough.

It’s not as bad as it used to be when Cookie Monster was first born. I didn’t leave my house for four months and it took me nine months before I finally sucked it up and ventured out to meet other first time mothers. I am grateful for that first playgroup – it gave me structure and I committed to going every week. But even though I enjoyed their company, it wasn’t the type of deep, soul-connection I was longing for.

I was still lonely.

Fast forward six years and I am flush with kindred spirits. I have finally found my tribe. (Well, tribes, really.) And it is all due to the internet.

I love you, Internet.

So, what do I mean by “finding your tribe”?

I mean, you have found where you belong. Your Cheers bar where everyone knows your name. Your home. Your people. Your soul mates.

You have found a people who are like you in the ways that matter to you – be it your passions, your hobbies, your interests, your humors, your loves, or your hates. Although, I would avoid the hates because I think that’s a sad and empty way to model your life. On second thought, commonalities in the stuff you dislike has its uses. But ultimately, a better way would be to find people who love the things you love, and might love it in similar enough ways.

So what happened? How did I get from being super lonely to happily belonging to several tribes?

I did mention that I love the internet, right?

I want to say the turning point came when one fortuitous day, I saw a post in our local Asian American Parenting Meetup Group about a Mandarin Playdate at an old elementary school friend’s home. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Until that moment, I had spent the first 15 months of Cookie Monster’s life just muddling through, wanting to find Chinese preschools and teachers but not knowing where to go or who to trust or ask.

All I did was speak to him in Chinese all the time (and that was really weird). I risked feeling uncomfortable in public, at English speaking playgroups, at the park, etc. It was very lonely and I was starting to panic. I only had a vague sense of what I wanted to do – but no real plans other than some vague “speak Chinese a lot” and “send to Chinese school.”

I was so lonely.

But because of that playdate, I reconnected with Irish Twins and met Tiger WooNot Another DB MBA, and Fleur. I felt an instant chemistry and for a blissful few years, we were nearly inseparable. Our husbands would complain that we were always hanging out with each other and never at home.

Because of these women, I found two amazing Chinese preschool teachers who have taught (or will teach) all three of my children. We have all chosen widely varying paths to Chinese fluency for our kids, (to varying degrees of success), and they have enriched both my life in general, as well as eased the lonely marathon of teaching my kids Chinese.

And thanks to my iPhone, even when we are not all together in person, it feels as if we are because we are constantly texting. We text so much that it is almost like we’re living in that commune we so desperately wish we lived in together. One day, I will have Varsity Jackets made with The Boba Ramen Crew embroidered on them and give them to each of us. We can wear them while trolling people we hate, sipping on boba, going to Korean scrubs, and slurping up ramen.

A girl can dream.

Also through pursuing Chinese fluency for my kids, I met one of my new besties, GuavaRama, through the Raising Bilingual Children in Chinese & English Facebook group. I basically am her biggest fan. In fact, I think The Boba Ramen Crew members are all her fangirls and eager acolytes.

Somehow, I’ve conned her into wanting to be my friend and now we have an art co-op for our kids at my house and we go on “Working” Mom’s Night Outs where we blog, plan curriculum, and discuss Chinese books and Mandarin immersion and language nerd stuff until 1am when they kick us out of a local Hong Kong cafe.

Plus, I have given her all of my money to support my drug addiction of choice: Chinese books. Seriously, if GuavaRama didn’t have her own blog already, I’d call her The Dealer because she is such an enabler.

Also, through friends of friends and constant commenting on each other’s posts and about my blog, I have met a few other women with whom we’ve all formed a loose sort of community based around our shared mediocrity. We have a lot of laughs over keeping each other accountable and on task for the things we have to do during the day. It also helps that we’re on board this Chinese immersion train.

And now?

Now, I stay out until 1:00am talking with old friends about books. I remember driving home in the middle of the night energized, a ridiculously goofy grin on my face. I could have geeked out all night.

We were there for a book club that I had started because I was sick of the run of the mill book clubs that chose books I was only marginally interested in. Our book club focused on science fiction, fantasy, and graphic novels. We’ve only had two meetings in the last 6-7 months, but I am certain it will be one of my favorite outings.

Now, GuavaRama and our mutual friends stay out until 1am talking about Chinese books, our kids learning Chinese, homeschooling curriculum, and Mandarin Immersion. I am always reluctant to end these gatherings and am bitter that the Bay Area doesn’t have more 24 hour options.

Now, I tricked a few of my fellow moms into playing monthly mah jong with me where we stay up until past 2 or 3am and nonstop smack talk in Chinese as I give all my pretend money to the other players. (Incidentally, that would be one of my children’s preschool teachers talking the most shit; she has been very educational).

Now, I have blogger friends that I met at my first Type A Con and have kept in touch through Facebook. This group of kickass women support me and my writing goals and understand my crazy life and choices. Plus, there are also a few who get me and my social justice leanings.

Now, I am finally known and no longer adrift and I am ever so grateful.

So my friends, if you are lonely, if you are feeling isolated and unknown, I encourage you to use the shit out of the internet and find your tribe. The world is much smaller and fuller than you think.

Being Invisible

“So, what do you ladies do?” The hairy, overly tanned middle-aged white man asked.

My friend, Laney, and I had been busy chatting in the hot tub on our last day together when Bob*, with the self-importance only a middle-aged white man can project, interjected and proceeded to monologue for the next 45 minutes wherein our sole purpose was to murmur sweet, appreciative assents while we seethed yet somehow were trapped in societal expectations and did not extricate ourselves. After all, we were there first! Why should we be forced to move? And yet, who was the big loser in this encounter? Us.

I am still pissed about this.

Anyhow, Bob had now moved on from what he thought about himself and was now, however briefly, willing to share the spotlight with one of us.

“What do you do?” he asked again as Laney and I hesitated. Do we engage more? Do we reply in a way to seem interesting? Or do we reply in such a way as to shut down conversation?

I knew what I would do.

“I’m a stay at home mom,” I said.

I watched as the interest in his eyes died before I even finished speaking the words. He turned immediately to Laney

I was uncertain whether I was relieved or furious that he did exactly as I had ensured. Hadn’t I answered in this way so that he would dismiss me and my life? So that I could deflect and not have to endure him any more than I had to?

And yet. And yet.

Every now and then when I think about my life, I think how it is the perfect NOC (non-official cover for those of you not in the know) for spies, cons, and surveillance personnel. After all, there is nothing more nondescript than a mother with her children. No one expects them to be anything but what they are – which is innocuous background noise (at least, until one of those kids has a very public meltdown).

We blend. We are scenery. We disappear.

Today, I walked into a cafe without my usual coterie of babies and for a brief second, I made eye contact with a man sitting at the counter. My mind wandered to where it normally wanders in a split second. I wondered, what would I be like now if I were single? Would I still be attractive? Desirable?

When I meet men now, do they even see me? Or do they only see my SAHM uniform of sweats, unwashed face and hair, long sleeve tee, thick ugly socks, and double-wrapped scarf?

And why does it matter?

Every time I ask Hapa Papa if he is ever worried I will have an affair, he always laughs. Not unkindly, mind you. But still. He laughs.

Nothing is as flattering as your husband laughing at the idea of you having an affair because who would want to have an illicit affair with someone encumbered with three small, young children?

Hapa Papa sure knows how to make a woman feel desirable. Sorry, ladies. He’s taken.

Incidentally, this is not a post to elicit reassurances from my lovely and dear friends.

Lately, I wonder if I ever felt as if I were visible or if it is solely a consequence of my current identity. Did I ever feel as if I owned a place? Secure with my place in the world? My role? My identity?

Or is this merely another manifestation of feeling as if amazing and I are mutually exclusive states of being?

Whatever the reason, I’m done. 2016, you’ve been warned. And you’ll see me coming.

 

*Not his real name. Or it could be. I have no idea. I’m still pissed off about it but I forgot his name in its entirety.

A Good, Swift Kick in the Ass

After my last post whining about not having my shit together, I had complained about the same stuff to Dr. T wherein she promptly tore me a new one (albeit, nicely).

She basically said that I had a vicious cycle of having high standards, being extreme and either doing everything at once or doing nothing at all.  Of course, I would get overwhelmed and do nothing and then get more depressed.

She reiterated wanting me to consider medication because I have such a difficulty overcoming inertia that she wonders if it has something to do with my serotonin levels. Either that or exercise. I had to try not to laugh in her face at that suggestion.

However, since I didn’t want to do either, I got my ass in gear.

Nothing motivates me, it seems, like the threat of medication.*

So, I cleared out my laundry room. It doesn’t sound like a big deal except for the fact that it was so crammed full of stuff that we could barely squeeze in to do laundry. Basically, every time we had a party or had to clear the kitchen table, we shoved all the stuff into a huge bag and then shoved that into the laundry room.

Going through all the artwork and mail and bags and bags of stuff was literally like going through a time capsule of our last year. I know because the last time I cleared the laundry room was a year ago.

Bye bye, labors of love from my darling children! My entire recycling can is full of art. Whoooo!

I did remember to take pictures of them, though. I also took pictures of the art we had on the walls and took lots of the older pieces down to replace with their newer pieces. Very exciting. Cookie Monster was less thrilled and exclaimed, “No fair!” Not sure what was so unfair but hey, he’s not six yet so who knows if he even knows what that means!

Here is my glorious laundry room:

IMG_5218

IMG_5219

IMG_5217

Of course, this took ALL day (thanks, Hapa Papa for taking the kids out) and it lasted all of five minutes because I still need some place to put this:

IMG_5221

Not to mention my breadmaker that I bought at least a year ago that I should really move back out to the garage.

Likely I will just shove into one of my cabinets. I have to clear those out, too.

And because I wanted to procrastinate cleaning the laundry room, I also did some homeschooling (on a Sunday, too!) and began to rearrange the contents of my homeschooling bookshelves. I reluctantly moved all my nonfiction books into the bookshelf in my office/guest room closet. Is it wrong that the main reason I was reluctant to do so is because now, when people come over and browse my books, they won’t see my “intellectual” books?

I’m such a poseur.

Now I just have to move piecemeal through the rest of my house (going from biggest pain point to the next). Of course, all this means is that I will have to end up cleaning my laundry room again because I will have moved and dumped all the stuff from the other rooms there.

FML.

*A/N: To clarify: I think medication is great, useful, and lifesaving. (Whether the garden variety of antibiotics and vaccines, or the serotonin regulators, etc. for depression et. al.) I, personally, do not feel it is what I want at the moment. I may change my mind if I need to in the future.

I Can’t Get No Satisfaction

What is it about life that it just piles and piles and piles on top of everything and everywhere?

I mean, I realize that entropy is the default state of being and the Second Law of Thermodynamics so why fight against The Universe?

And yet.

No matter how much (or let’s be real, little) I do, it’s never enough. I always feel behind the 8-ball.

Is this a Woman Thing? Or a Mom Thing?

I mean, I don’t really hear Hapa Papa bitching and moaning about the state of the house (although, lately, it seems to be pressing on even him) or feeling as if he’s always behind or never caught up on shit.

However, now that I think about it – and I mean this in no way to diminish what Hapa Papa does because he is quite the involved father and provides pretty much all monetary support for our family – he really only has two major areas of responsibility: providing monetarily for the family and being an involved father.

Everything else is on me. Now, usually I don’t mind because quite frankly, I’m a control freak and I rather enjoy having everything be what I want it to be (or think it should be). But then, when things aren’t quite right, it’s all on me.

Hapa Papa is an easy-going guy and a good sport, so other than a few things, he really doesn’t have a particular opinion on whatever new parenting philosophy I’m trying this month or homeschooling or sports (wait, he does have an opinion on sports) or food or household chores or whatever. As long as it doesn’t particularly bother him, Hapa Papa mostly just gets out of my way and lets me do my thing and tries to support me as much as he can.

He is a good man.

But just like I (God-willing) will never have to feel that singular burden of providing financially for our household, he will never have to feel that singular burden of everything else. The staggering amounts of minutiae in the daily lives of five living and growing human beings.

I am overwhelmed.

(Although, I can’t say I have ever felt whelmed.)

It doesn’t seem as if it’s that much. I mean, I am a competent person of above-average intelligence and ability, right? Right?

So why do I feel so shitty? And so dissatisfied?

And now that I think about all the stuff that is within my purview, it really is a lot! I mean, I am not exaggerating when I say that Hapa Papa only needs to think about (and do) his career/making money and being a good father/husband. (And to clarify, Hapa Papa does a ton more than the “average” husband – so please know that I definitely appreciate him!)

Here’s just some stuff off the top my head that I have to take care of on a regular basis:

– Follow up with Car Rental Company to make sure they submit the missing paperwork to our credit card company re: a claim
– Follow up with Health Insurance Company re: multiple claims/missing money
– Submit FSA receipts
– Take care of all benefits
– Physicals and dental appointments for the whole family
– Saving/Investing
– Paying everyone and every institution that we need to pay
– Enrolling/Scheduling kids and their classes and paying on a monthly/quarterly basis
– Shuttling kids to all their activities
– Feeding/Bathing/Clothing/Maintaining/Keeping Alive/Disciplining children (and self and Hapa Papa)
– Keeping track of extended family birthdays/special events/visits/illnesses/etc.
– Keeping in touch with family friends
– Scheduling car maintenances
– Insurance (life/health/car/home/flood/umbrella WHATEVER)
– Shopping (food/clothes/home/educational/etc.)
– Cooking
– Cleaning/Laundry/Dishes/Garbage
– Mail (absolutely my LEAST favorite)
– Diapers
– Potty Training
– Parenting
– Taking out the garbage
– Compost
– Returning library books
– Sleep training
– Homeschooling
– Ovulation/Fertility Tracking (if we are still trying for a fourth)
– Taxes
– Anything that requires a phone call or a live human

Look. I know this shit is what life is made of. And again, it’s not like Hapa Papa doesn’t contribute in terms of housework (I am always elated when he unloads the dishwasher – one of my LEAST favorite activities even though it is incredibly simple). Furthermore, Hapa Papa is amazing at giving me space to decompress and disappear from the family. He gives me entire WEEKENDS (on a regular basis!) so I know I have it good.

But if I have it so good and am still feeling crushed, how the fuck are other people doing this?

Is everyone else just better at faking it?

(Ok. I do know some people who are terrible at faking it and when I look at them, I judge. I know. I’m a hypocrite. But seriously. Come on, people. Get your shit together.)

What do you think? Are we all just sucking at “adulting”? Did our parents have these problems, too? They must have, right? Let me know in the comments.