There are a ton of things that I expected to do when I had kids. Before I became a parent, I had a set of ideas of what we were going to do, when and for how long.
Our plans were derailed by infertility and miscarriages. I’m older than I intended to be, with more grad school than I thought I would have, with a longer gap between the kids (due to the miscarriages and infertility) and stopping with two kids instead of the three or four we had originally envisioned.
Our lives look nothing like I pictured nine years ago when we were engaged and planning them.
One of the biggest differences is how tired I am. And how this lingering tiredness affects my parenting. Seriously. I had no idea how easy it was to get worn down in an argument with a toddler to the point where you are just like, “whatever, it won’t kill you.”
Having a three year old and a baby is exhausting. I can’t imagine having more to be honest because I am so tired with two! Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe it’s just an acknowledgment of something else that I probably should have figured out earlier on – that I really don’t function well without some personal time to myself.
I don’t think I understood that very well until recently: I really don’t function well unless I have taken some time out alone.
So this has meant getting up earlier than the kids and staying up later. Without those extra hours of alone time, I don’t recharge well.
So I’m probably more tired than I have to be. But the trade off of some space is probably worth it.