I can’t really remember the last time I sat down to write. The days are all merging into one, yet the weeks are speeding by faster than I care to think about.
And quite frankly, I’m finding it difficult to write anything as I am overwhelmed by everything.
EVERYTHING.
The mothering mental load has increased to overflow as the days in lockdown speed by, and parenting exhaustion is at an all time high.
The constant questioning of my own decisions, my own actions, how they’re impacting the children during this time of uncertainity.
When I am replaying conversations with them, homeschool lessons, and analysing how I *should* have done it compared to how I actually did it.
And the guilt. Oh the guilt. Splitting my time between the three of them. Their different needs, wants, requirements.
The differing school work loads of each of the older two. and the whining that comes as I sit begging, bribing, cajoling, to get it done.
Turning around after setting my seven year old off working and discovering he once again has left his seat and wandered off.
Finding where my five year old has run off to hide and “P-L-AYYYYYY” as he tells me.
When the baby just wants to wander round smashing balls with rackets and comes perilously close to smashing the tv.
The headache at the end of the day from managing it all, the need to escape from the relentless cycle of what feels like a negative mindset.
The overwhelm is real
My brain is full. Of everything. Of nothing.
The negativity often slips in, and the overwhelm feels like it’s going to swallow me whole.
I worry about the damage I am doing with home school, whether the shouting will impact the relationship I have with my sons, how my own mental health is suffering.
But I also know I need to give myself a break
And them.
It’s not easy living through a pandemic.
It’s even more difficult when you live overseas following a different set of rules than are laid out for your loved ones at home. Not knowing when we will be able to get back to see them and still return home to Qatar. Unsure when they will be able to fly to see us.
The uncertainty, waiting and unknown.
Total overwhelm of emotions, information, and being together all the time.
And I know if I’m finding it difficult, overwhelming, infuriating, then they must be feeling the same.
They were ripped from school 5 minutes before the end of the day, not knowing when, or indeed if, they will return to that building.
From manic days filled with extracurricular activities to yawning wide open spaces of time where they often grumble about being bored, or beg to go on video games, or in front of the TV.
They’re looking to us
To help them make sense of it all, to ease their overwhelm. Which in turn adds to the load.
Yet I’d rather take the load from them
Ease their worries just a little.
Not push too hard at school when they can be playing planes and travelling away in their imagination (complete with snacks apparently – it’s a long journey).
To try each day, each hour, each minute to not let myself too far into negativity. Remember that every cloud has a silver lining no matter how small.
And when I run out of ways to be positive? That’s when I take my time to lean on my husband, to push some of my overwhelm onto him.
Because that’s what we do here.
We share.
We support.
And in doing so the overwhelm doesn’t seem all that consuming.