I've been waking up at 5:30 every morning lately.
Five-Fucking-Thirty AM.
On purpose.
I don't know whether to be proud of myself or start looking for a good therapist.
Pretty sure I haven't been this tired since Hugmonkey looked like this.
I know that a lot of you probably get up earlier. Or stay up later than my 11pm - ish bedtime AND get up earlier. You people are awesome. Because I would like a medal or a banner or something.
(Aside for people who watch The Real Housewives of New York City: Remember when Aviva wanted a party and a banner because she'd ridden on the small plane to St.Barth's? And you kind of wanted to smack her? I am turning into Aviva.)
I'm getting up to write before anyone in the family gets up. And it's not even good writing, it's writing for the giant content corporation. But it's also cold, hard, cash paid into my PayPal account twice a week.
I tell myself that any writing is good practice. I tell myself that I am living the dream by getting paid for my words. I tell myself that we need the money. But I feel like my other writing is suffering (for proof just look at previous posts) or non-existent.
Not to mention that I fell asleep 30 seconds after stretching out to indulge in a little TV yesterday afternoon.
I had planned to write while Hugmonkey was in preschool in the mornings. But I also have to work out in the mornings - though not at 5:30, I'm not tough enough for that - because otherwise I won't do it. So after getting everyone to school I exercise and run any necessary errands and then I've got like 20 minutes of writing time before I have to get Hugmonkey.
That's what you're getting, those of you who are sweet enough to read this blog. The 20 minutes I sometimes get before getting Hugmonkey. Oh, and some Sunday mornings, depending on Lovebug's soccer schedule.
I want to work on my local review site (which will be brutally honest and geared toward families) at night. I should work on that at night. And on Band Back Together stuff. And on fiction. Or at least on articles I want to write.
But by the time I get the kids to bed all I really want to do is watch television and get sleepy. I can barely read after the kids go to bed, let alone write anything. Hence my extensive knowledge of The Real Housewives and my lack of creative output.
How do you guys fit everything in? Can I use Kickstarter to fund a baby-sitter and/or a cleaning lady? How do you go to bed before 11? What do you do after the kids go to bed?
4 comments:
I really have no advice for you. The last time I got to bed before 11 was.....when I was 15? Or when I was sick and taking cold medicine. Even with my new 6am wake up time, I'm still not going to bed before 2 or 3. I've just resigned myself to never getting more than 4 hours of sleep a night....I'll let you know how that goes (probably not well).
Aviva and her banner. I found her slightly annoying at the beginning of the season, but the annoyance just keeps getting worse.
I am not a parent, so my words may have little value to you. I would suggest that you consider the example you are setting for your children. By placing yourself and your own needs/desires at the bottom of your priority list, what are you saying to your children about how they should treat themselves later in life? Children should be a parent's top priority, yet parents should remind children (through example) that self care is important. I hope you find a way to make time for yourself, because I love you and think you are worth it.
@From Tracie - I know! I actually thought Aviva would turn out to be okay, but now the only one I really like is Carole.
4 hours? You are so much tougher than I could be. I'm a danger without 6, I think.
I'm not fitting it all in, especially now that I'm pregnant and need more sleep. I'm behind in every area of my life.
I used to get a lot done after the kids were asleep, but now, I'm falling into bed right after them. If Dave's home, I'll try and stay up to watch some television with him, but I can't seem to stay awake to do that, lately!
When I look at other moms that seem to have it all together and are doing so much more, I imagine that they must have some secret or an area of their life that is completely out of control. Maybe they have a hoarder house or they pay their neighbor to make the treats and crafts they bring to the school parties. It's silly, but it makes me feel better.
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