Sometimes, I just can’t. I can’t seem to muster up the willpower to play the dutiful housewife or doting mom and I just want to be left alone with my dog snuggled up on the couch watching Netflix and eating crackers and cheese. Maybe even throw a glass of wine into the mix if I’m feeling saucy. But, as most of us out here, we are adults with responsibilities and can’t just forego our duties in order to alleviate our stress levels at any given time. I know I am very privileged to live the life that I do, but lord knows I can use the occasional break every now and then from cooking, cleaning, working and training. Constantly surrounded by kids and chores and messes. My body definitely feels the repercussions of being run down as I battle aches and pains from nagging injuries and a cold creeping its way into my immune system. And it’s times like these when I understand how the term ‘female hysteria’ was so rampant when medical professionals not having to deal with jack shit or juggling a multitude of responsibilities knew what else to call it. Nah Karen, that’s just life man. Ya girl is tired, as I am sure we all are, but being that this is my blog, I’m going to use my platform to air out my grievances.

I wake up, start my coffee (extra caffeinated) and go train. I roll around with the dudes much larger and stronger than I and hope my prowess can keep up. I fuel my body with proper nutrients and get some cleaning done before training some more. Then before I lay my exhausted head down to sleep, I finish up some vacuuming, cooking, or laundry and go to bed. Or at least I try to, because my mind tends to keep me up with the thoughts of all the things I need to accomplish the following day. Some days I kick ass, but most days I have my ass kicked and then when I am feeling irrevocably down, I get to come home and clean up the messes left behind. What I really want more than anything right now is to sleep for 2 days and wake up feeling refreshed, rejuvenated, and healthy, but these are lofty and unattainable dreams. Why is being an adult so damn difficult!? Sometimes I am so jealous of the kids who’s only responsibility is school and then when summer vacation hits they are free to do as they please. Growing old sucks, but I guess it beats the alternative. At least I am lucky enough to be in pursuit of a passion and a career that sets my soul on fire.

Looks like my life has come full circle, as I am inevitably turning into my mother (which she hates being called ‘mother’ by the way, as she says it reminds her of Bambi before the hunter snipes his mom). As an adolescent, I would always wonder to myself why she always smelled of bleach and had stained and disheveled clothes. With a house that includes a man, 2 kids, and 2 dogs, that question has now answered itself. Although I do miss having a closet full of clothes unmarked by bleach stains, I would much rather have a clean house void of stickiness and clutter, at least temporarily, as shedding pet hair and rambunctious teenagers keep me on my toes. I also want to give the woman who raised me credit because I took for granted for years how difficult it can be to work all day and then come home to work around the house some more. ‘Chronic migraine’ is a term that has embedded itself into my own personal dictionary. I 100% was a little shit, and must have caused my mom so many gray hairs, so I am only now realizing how amazing she truly was to be able to master it all. Treat the mamas and wives in your life to a spa day every now and then, lord knows they could use it.

I love my life and the people in it. I’m surrounded by a family so full of love that they fill a void I never even knew was even there. But dammit, sometimes I’m tired. It’s exhausting feeling like I need to constantly run a tight ship and be the glue holding everything together. And therein lies the problem in and of itself. I am allowing myself to feel this way. No one is holding a gun to my head telling men to run myself into the ground until I suffer a meltdown in order to keep everything perfect. If I don’t dust and wipe down every surface, the world won’t collapse. My house won’t crumble, I just need to learn to accept the normalcy of a beautiful mess. I just really enjoy having a clean house and cooking elaborate meals. The true problem is my damn emotions feeling like they can dictate my mood. I need to know I am in control of how I feel and it is not up to others to either placate me or make me feel inferior. The older I get, the more I understand my mom’s habit of cleaning in one hand and holding a glass of riesling with the other. You do you boo boo.

Sometimes, I like to torture myself and see what my friends from my teenage years are up to. While I practically have zero communication with anyone from my youth, my “party” group of friends remained in tact. Not going to lie, I felt a twinge of jealousy looking at their Instagram accounts teeming with photos from their lives of luxury. Yacht trips, vacations, clubbing every night, adorned in gorgeous clothes and provocative swimwear and dripping in expensive jewelry. I’m over here cleaning up dog poop and gnawing on celery to make weight while icing some sort of new injury. But perhaps I’m the lucky one, with a family that loves me, kids that appreciate me, and a domestic partner who supports me and showers me in affection. But damn, a day on the yacht void of screaming children does sound quite lovely. However, age inevitably makes all of us its bitch in the end and I’ll tell you right now that this bitch has the best family imaginable. I whined and complained throughout this entire blog post and yet, I miss them so much as I type this. No matter what new mess I am cleaning up after or complicated dish I plan on making, a simple hug and words of ‘I love you’ is all I really need to have me riding high on cloud nine all over again. I thought I knew what love was before all of them, but Only after being fortunate enough to be in this life have I learned there was so much more to the magnitude of it all. So if I’m turning into my mother, I can ask for no greater compliment, because this girl’s mom raised one hell of a (wolf) Queen.

One thought on “%1$s”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *