The Colorado National Monument. Fruita, CO.
A few weeks ago Lee and Alice took a trip to Canada without me. A limited span of days off from work and an $800 plane ticket were major factors in why I didn't go but there was also something else: I was in desperate need of some time alone.
Before they left on their daddy-and-daughter trip to visit my in-laws, I felt my patience for the daily grind waning. I bickered incessantly with Lee. I snapped frequently at Alice. I found myself with gritted teeth and boiling blood on most days. Every day I felt completely spent.
Burned out. Deflated. Threadbare.
Those ten days alone without my two loves certainly helped to alleviate some of the funk I had found myself in but, to be completely transparent, I am still struggling with our every day. Alice has entered a supremely difficult stage where everything we ask her to do results in an irrational fight or an enormous meltdown or hysterical tears. I know this will pass and eventually she'll grow out of it but I find myself wondering when it ever will and if I will ever enjoy being a mother again.
Because frankly right now, I really don't.
It may sound harsh to say that I don't enjoy being a mother but, in this moment, it is my truth. I've always kept this blog as a way to document my life, both the good and the bad, and to be inauthentic as to what I am going through completely defeats the purpose. Continuing in the vein of authenticity (and to give my harsh feelings a bit of background), my most frustrating mothering moments, when all I feel like doing is running from our loft, never to return, are usually on the tail-end of a string of night shifts when I am sleep-deprived and emotionally volatile.
Not surprisingly, Lee and I have decided those are not the days that I will be the primary caretaker.
There is some good news here, though: Lee and I have found ourselves stronger and more in love as of late. With a tantrum-throwing toddler at our feet on most nights, we've struggled to keep our cools with each other and have had to make heroic efforts to not take out our frustrations over our daughter's behavior on each other. We had a wonderful and much-needed date last night where we talked, I cried, and we committed to getting through this stage of parenthood in one piece.
And without killing our little spit-fire.
And now to shed a positive light on an otherwise negative post, I finished my 50K a few weekends ago. Lee and I left Alice with Grandma Julie for a few nights so that we could get away to Fruita and so that I could run the beautiful trails of the Colorado National Monument. Sadly there was rain again this year which changed the course from one 31.6-mile loop into three 10.3-mile loops.
Except during the first loop, we ran 14.8 miles due to a poorly marked course.
So my annual 50K was more like a 56K. But despite my bitching at the race director before my third loop and almost losing a toenail, I loved every minute of participating in that race.
Even those additional 6 kilometers.
Desert cacti in full bloom. // 50K finisher! April 18th, 2015.