Teddy is two today. He is delightful and loving and funny and ohmygod defiant and stubborn. He is in near-constant motion unless we’ve tamed him with a book for a short time. He is obsessed with trucks and loves shoes, necklaces, and all things glittery. We are in love, but holy hell are we tired.
It’s hard to separate the tired that goes with parenting two strong-willed children, and now doing so while both parents work full-time outside the home, from the more abnormal forms of tired. I tend to run on the tired and achy side due to the lingering Lyme stuff, but life is seriously kicking my ass now. My knees always ache. I can’t really kneel anymore–or have to do so carefully due to the highly pressure-sensitive spots on them (tricky when your job requires a lot of up and down and floor time). The rest of my body feels like I’ve just run a race– except not in that good, adrenaline-filled kind of way. I’m gritting my teeth and dragging through days. I’m trying to be a good mom, but have far less patience or creativity in this state. I’m painfully exhausted to my core and can’t figure out how to get everything done. Days I work, I fall asleep on the couch after the kids go to bed and then pry myself up to prep for the next day. If I can. Days I don’t work, I’m not a whole lot more functional. I’m behind in the planning and organizing I should be doing for my classroom because I can’t stay awake, and when I am awake I can’t think clearly enough about it to do anything useful. Our house is never as clean as I want it to be, and most days I simultaneously am too tired to care and driven crazy by it. This isn’t normal…is it? I know parenting is hard work. I know teaching small children is hard work. Is it the combination of the two kicking my ass, or is something else going on? This is my constant internal battle.
I’m going to try to get to our GP this week to check in. I’ll ask them to test me for Celiac again. My dad has it, and as much as I would hate going gluten-free, I would welcome a clear course of action. I’ll ask for rheumatologist recommendations as well. But I suspect that everything will check out fine and I’ll be left with the stupid diagnosis that half the medical community doesn’t believe exists. And because it doesn’t exist, there’s nothing to be done. How the hell do people do this?
(sorry to appear after so long with nothing but whining, but I’m trying to operate on the “if you write something you’ll have an easier time writing something else” principle.)