not tired enough for bed, too tired for dishes: this is my life.
i do feel that if the current trend of my housekeeping continues, then it will be at least a decade (probably more) before the whole of my house could be found to be clean at the same point in time. i often wonder why it is that i can’t get up to wash the last few dishes or fold that small basket of laundry past 9p, but when i feel the little flutters in my belly, i vaguely remember reading something about the energy needed to grow another human. or mother the ones running around. or something like that. and then i feel tired, and i wage war with my soul over whether or not the scale can handle another bedtime snack.
i remember when jones was about a year old — it was another 10 months or so before i got pregnant with baby #2, so i had plenty of time to go about creating a ridiculous standard for housewivery that would be utterly unattainable with the babies to come. i did the dishes every night. every night, the kitchen was clean before i went to bed, and the coffee was on a timer. tonight, as i came into the living room from brushing my teeth, i thought about making coffee for the morning, how nice it would be to come downstairs to a pot already brewed, but i didn’t want to reach into the freezer, and i didn’t want to grind the beans, and i didn’t want to go into the kitchen and see the dishes left in the sink and feel bad about them, so i just came back to the couch, where i am currently typing out this post.
at that time in my life, i hung laundry out to dry, folded it, and put it away in the same day. i spent hours outside with jones. we went to a park everyday, sometimes two. (though they can be more easily found in japan than in america, given that kids don’t play in backyards and the like — they play in parks.) most mornings, i got up before jones. i read things, i organized things, i studied, i learned another freaking language!
i read blogs of moms who felt harried and drank four cups of coffee a day, and it wasn’t that i thought they were lying about the toughness of their situation, i just thought it would be different when i did it. perhaps i thought i possessed the organizational skills, energy, and creativity that save me from ever entering that zone of motherhood. i thought i had enough of what it would take. ha. ha ha ha ha ha.
turns out i just have to have enough of one thing: caffeine. and WOW, does it make a difference. i didn’t understand the full extent of the wonder of coffee until i was pregnant with two kids running around. in fact, prior to now, i had been caffeine-less as i nursed ezra, and often thought, “perhaps that’s it. perhaps i won’t be a coffee drinker anymore.” and now i know. i know. i really really really know that i won’t be parting with coffee for a looooooong time.
but it still doesn’t help me with the dishes. please tell me i’m not alone.