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... and I'm thankful infertility and life chaos has limited us to one kid.
My son is a fantastic small human with huge goals and talents. He's funny and smart and is turning out to be a very interesting person.
But I'm so damn tired. My wife is disabled and limited to what she can handle physically and emotionally. Pre-disability, we were a well oiled machine who split the parenting stuff so we could both get breaks. But now, it's all me, all the time.
I get the morning snuggles, the cooking, do school (homeschool because, why not take on this full-time, unpaid gig?), do laundry, dishes, almost all of the cleaning, arrange appointments, grocery shop, figure out play dates and activities. I do the driving, the ordering, the errand running, the negotiating. I pay the bills, allot the allowance, handle the bad attitudes, the growth spurts.
And I think, what if we'd had two kids? Four? I'm so thankful I have my kid because we wanted so much to be parents, but hotdamn, if I have to take care of one more human body, I think I might just get in bed and stay there forever.
My exhaustion this week is particularly strong because we spent time with another adult over the weekend and while my wife got to sit and have grown up conversations with someone, I got to manage the super excited, yammering 9 year old who is struggling to figure out social cues because thanks pandemic for keeping us in our apartment for two years since my wife will die if someone sneezes on her.
That's all. Thanks to all the other tired moms for the solidarity.
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Hahaha, thank you. He had to pick her up at after-school care one day last week due to my aforementioned car issues, and I'm pretty sure he was one step away from asking me to throw him a parade for doing it. Okay bud, thanks for doing the bare minimum as a parent then.