Life exhaustion

I'm tired. 

Scared, lonely and tired. 

Best combination ever. 

There was this huge clinging to summer sadness and what September meant to my life. 

The simple part of me thought CRAP, no more beach days, no more swimming or open toe teva wearing days. I mean I could prolong and add socks right, very fashion forward. 

Now it's mid September or late September which means October is knocking at my door but I'm not ready. 

I just handed in the kids school supplies and the list was still missing a few items. 

I had a moment of being overwhelmed the other day. 

It happened at Walmart of all fucking places.

On the hunt for marble composition notebooks and not the $2.49 kind there were boxes of at staples. With 8 notebooks on the 2nd graders supply list I knew I had to find a bargain. In June most if not all of them were returned home after the school year barely used, I resisted the urge to recycle. 

To my surprise people did this kind it thing way prior and were actually prepared for September, I must've missed the memo while at the beach. 

Walmart sold out.

Target sold out.

Me overwhelmed. 

I had 19 text messages on my phone. 

The kid at my side asking me for Star Wars whatever that was not on the list and the madness of Walmart made me think the world was ending the way people scurried around the "super center".

What was going on? 

I fought back the tears and thoughts and took a deep breath. 

I paid for my shit and got he hell out of there. 

I managed to turned my phone back on when the feeling of being overwhelmed was gone. I also needed the gps on it to get back home. 

I remember being tired. 

Not physically. 

Just tired.

Tired of it all.

Tired of the responsibility of EVERYTHING.

ALL. the. time.

School supplies

Electric bill

Laundry 

School lunch

Healthy school lunch

Snack 

Extra snack for after school 

The blue card, oh the dreaded blue card as if the school didn't already have ours from last year on file.

The doctors form

Clean uniform pants

Clean uniform shirt

Water bottle 

Lunch bag 

Book bag 

Dog food 

Cat liter

Tired of it all.

What do I do?

Who can I share some of this responsibility with? 

No one - harsh reality 

I smile. 

The kid is happy regardless.

We get through the second week of school.

Walmart ain't that bad.

Monday drop off was ok.

I managed to make it to yoga. 

I had a good morning.

Next up, laundry.  

Check.

My stomach growls reminding me of the coffee I had for breakfast. 

I should eat. 

I go to turn on the oven.

Gas is off.

Shit.

Had I forgotten to pay the gas bill? 

Not possible. 

Odds are that's a huge possibility.

I call the gas company and of course I did.

Hold your shit together.

You are human.

The operator said. 

Only she didn't say that. 

She said someone could come out and turn it on tomorrow evening between 6 and10pm. 

The cold shower felt surprisingly worse than I had ever imagined but I was grateful for the ice cold running water nonetheless.

Some people don't even have that. 

Tomorrow I'd take a hot shower. 

Great!

What else could I do but say great! 

My go to word these days.

I'm tired.

The kind of tired that needs help.

The tired of doing it all on my own.

How did I get here.

I swear I made good choices.

I replay them all the time.

I feel sad for both of us.

The kid deserves more.

He needs more.

He doesn't even know what more is.

I know I'm his everything.

I know I can't be tired.

And then she's back.

And I say fuck this! 

I love my life.

Tuesday night 9pmish the gas is on.

I take a nice long hot shower put my cloak back on and kiss the kid good night.

God I'm a lucky girl. 

Lucky no. 7

Seven is a lucky number.

When I think of the number seven, it's so simple. Childhood is simple. 

Yet the past seven years of raising the kid could not have been more complicated. When I used to hear parents vent about how fast their children have grown I kinda eye rolled. It couldn't possibly fly by especially since it's so hard, yet here we are seven years later. 

He's seven years old. 

Shit.

What the hell happened? 

Why did his happen? 

There's nothing like a growing child to remind you how quickly time can pass.

I get sad. 

I tear up.

The sort of happy cry knowing that I did it. 

I can do this shit with my eyes closed. The simultaneous cry knowing things have changed but in reality stayed the same.

Its human nature to put a timeline on life. As children our parents did it to us and they called it "a milestone", as we grew older we did it to ourselves, from preteen to teenage, 18 to party 21 to drink and then 25 rolls around and you're still safe but once 30 does you start to question where the hell all the years went and what did you spend them doing.

I almost immediately gave myself a timeline. 

To say I'd meet someone,  hit it off, date, travel, cohabitate, possibly marry - or not- have another child is just plain dumb. 

Life doesn't work that way.

I guess the entire part of my life changing is correct. It drastically changed. I woke up one day and had a seven year old, at least that's how it feels. 

The part of the inevitable change is still happening. 

I thought maybe the solo parenting mission part would be different.

All hope was lost with co parenting w the biological but that's an entirely different journey. 

Now the happy cry is back.

I look at the kid.

He is amazing.

He is thoughtful.

He is kind.

He likes to share his bagel with me. 

He values friendship and family. 

He has passions.

He has an imagination.

The way he high fives his teacher at school pick up when he sees me waiting makes my tears happy ones. 

And then I ask myself why the fuck are you crying? 

You have a good life.

What did I do to deserve such a good life? 

Lucky number 7 is a great sign of not wanting things to change for the sake of adapting but the adaptation of the life I have and making it the absolute best.