Finding Time for the Nervous Breakdown I Deserve – A Sing-Along

I thought I’d do something a little different for this foray into the naked truth of Mommyhood. Let’s have a Sing-Along! (Luckily for you, this blog is a written medium – those who know me will promptly attest to my tone-deafness.)

Like all perfectly normal sane people, I often find myself racing through days thinking, “Wouldn’t it be cool if my life had a soundtrack?” So, without further ado let’s all join in a rousing rendition of my theme song, “Frantic, by Jamie O’Neal.”

Wake up, 90 miles an hour / Take the world’s fastest shower
Coffee black, microwave it / I’m at my best caffeinated
Out the door, pick up the pace / I’m here, I’m there, I’m everyplace

It’s actually not me. It’s Destroy. 3:30 a.m. Wide awake, standing in his crib. “Hi Mommy. I’m awake. MOMMEEEEE, I’M AWAKE. PICK ME UP! UP! UP! UP! DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!” (Ok, he doesn’t actually speak yet, but that can’t be a far off interpretation.) I bring him to my bed. “Bounce? Bounce!”

I bring him downstairs in a vain attempt to buy his silence with a graham cracker. But he does a phenomenal job of creating a glue-like graham paste while playing with Legos in the pitch dark of 0-dark-thirty.

I, on the other hand, am curled up in a ball on my living room floor futility trying to capture another hour, half-hour, minute of sleep – complete with a red “2 & Under Lego” as my pillow. At some point, my cell phone comes up with the same idea and, in my absence, wriggles its way under a cushion on the couch. This of course means that when the alarm goes off a scant three hours later, no one hears it.

That’s how it goes / A day in my life
I’m on my toes / From morning to night
Livin’ like this / Some might say it’s / So exhausting, frenzied, manic
Call me nuts but I like it frantic

I plop the howling Destroyer into his crib, plotting my moves to be in and out of the shower, dressed and ready to go in under 15 minutes. (This has never actually happened.)

As I’m blow-drying my hair I notice yellow sparks shooting out the barrel. (I am not making this up.) In my infinite sleep-deprived wisdom, I turn the appliance toward my face. The angry sparks begin shooting blue; the air goes cold. Ponytail it is!

I throw on ill-fitting dress black dress that I think looks professional. I was going to wear pants, but they’re dirty/not-ironed (although this is not always a deal-breaker)/packed for a business trip. I won’t notice the hole in the side of my dress or the drool smeared down my sleeve until I actually get into the office. I brush lint (we’ll go with lint, sounds so much more mundane than toddler snot) off my dress to discover it’s actually unraveling seams. Oh my god – my nightmare of showing up undressed is going to come true.

This may be a good day to hide in my cube.

I’m not built for relaxing / I get bored without some action
One speed is all I know / Seize the day, yeah that’s my motto
Maybe someday, I’ll slow down / Maybe someday, but for now

Seriously time to caffeinate at this point. Those of you following along closely realize that the obvious logical next step is to spill coffee on myself. I’ve gotten pretty good at leaping back away from my rapid mug of hot liquid while quietly uttering phrases not meant for polite company.

I spend my days answering emails. Somewhere in there I think I have a corporate working-mommy job writing stuff. But the emails keep coming. Oh my god – I am being buried alive by my to-do list. How am I ever going to find the time to panic that I’m not doing as well as I could, that colleagues are talking about me behind my back, that the powers that be will discover my secret – that I’m just a kid playing at this grownup facade.

My hypochondriacal paranoia usually kicks in right about now. Ooh…shiny object…

What if the workplace really is just a big game of Survivor? But maybe that’s not half bad. There are definitely those days I could envision myself stripping down and plunging into water for the mere promise of chocolate and peanut butter. (Yes, I’m a little behind on my guilty pleasure television viewing.)

That’s how it goes / A day in my life
I’m on my toes / From morning to night
Livin’ like this / Some might say it’s / So exhausting, frenzied, manic
Call me nuts but I like it frantic

At 5 p.m. it’s time to bolt. Meetings, projects, mission critical tasks? Yeah, those are all going to wait. Ladies and gentleman: meet me – the new mobile worker. I’ve got to fly across town (Think Cruella DeVil in a mom-mobile people.) Daycare charges late fees by the minute. (I am not making this up. It’s $25 a minute. Times two.) As I slide into the classroom with time to spare, I hear a phrase that only makes sense in the current environment. “Search! Time to put your pants back on and go home!”

Things I haven’t done / Keep me on the run
But time sure does fly / When you’re having so much fun

At this point I realize I should probably feed both myself and my children. Now see, if I’d had that peanut butter and chocolate I might not be so ravenous. (Ooh! Idea for future post – how my paycheck goes directly to Costco because my one-year-olds already out eat me.)

Our little gang is going to have to make a run to the store. In times gone by I used to laugh at the cliché of, “Did you remember the milk?” Guess what. It’s true. And we need milk. And some other form of suppertime sustenance – all three of us are in danger of melting down. As soon as we walk into the store, we hear the inevitable squeals.

“Oh my goodness! How cute! Twins! They’re so identical? Are they both boys?” Wait – if you think they’re identical why are you asking if they’re the same gender. No, they’re not identical. Ok, fine. I give up. Totally identical. Where. Is. The. Food.

That’s how it goes / A day in my life
I’m on my toes / From morning to night
Livin’ like this / Some might say it’s / So exhausting, frenzied, manic
Call me nuts but I like it frantic

Home. Dinner – I think some of it is ingested as Destroy enjoys a full-body dining experience. Go directly to the bath; do not pass Go. When Search and Destroy have splashed all the water out of the tub and onto me and the bathroom floor, it’s time to get ready for bed. Well, actually, it’s time to chase two naked toddlers around the living room. Then it’s time for bed.

After the boys go to bed are the quiet hours we have to get stuff done. Or, a really good time to collapse into my own bed and prepare to do it all again tomorrow.

Oh, I like it frantic / Oh, I like it frantic
Yeah, I like it frantic / That’s how it goes
I like it frantic

4 Comments

Filed under A Nervous Tic Motion, Home, Work

4 Responses to Finding Time for the Nervous Breakdown I Deserve – A Sing-Along

  1. Joanne Hamann

    I. Am.Weary.Reading.This.

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  3. Pingback: Great Band Names (and other things I never thought I'd say) | A Nervous Tic Motion

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