I’m exhausted, and bored. I’m not sure how I got to be both of those things, but I am. I run around all day taking care of everyone, but each step of it is so mundane and boring. I can’t tell you what part of it is so exhausting, its everything. It’s the feeling so useless but completely essential all the time.

I’m tired of brushing Evies hair, every god damn morning. I’m even more tired of arguing with Evie every morning when its a complete surprise that I have to brush her hair.

Watch it little girl, the Hairy Fairy might just come chop off those long locks one night… you’re lucky I can’t cut it because it would be admitting you’re growing up to cut it. 


I’m tired of my three-minute showers. If you can even call Evie screaming at one side of the shower for me not to splash her, Millie dunking something into the toilet and Livie screaming like I just left her to starve alone on the bathroom floor, a shower.

I’m tired of smelling like a towel that was put away not quite all the way dry because lets face it, most days I don’t think that three minutes of hell is worth it when I can just use the cucumber scented baby wipes and freshen up instead.

I’m tired of having a random milk supply issue on my third kid. Come on boobs, you’ve done this before just make enough milk. Sure, it’s probably a little my fault seeing as I only get to eat every other Thursday. Lately I’ve been lucky to finish half a bottle of water a day. I’m super close to my goal though… of six bottles a day, super close.

I’m tired of kids behaving like kids. Evie insists on opening, and holding open the door into the YMCA for everyone within a two-mile radius every time we go. Sure, some days it’s cute. She runs ahead of us and struggles to pull open the heavy door. Then waits until everyone is inside before running inside just before the door closes on herself. Yesterday she pulled the door back over top of her big toe, pulling back and breaking her toenail on the way to my yoga class.. I was 10 minutes late. Sometimes, kids can be really selfish.

Livie is teething so they pulled me from class. Again, kids.. so selfish.
Yoga is supposed to help me relax and give me a break.. I ended up carrying Evie Millie and Livie with my yoga bag to the car .. all of them crying. I did this for exactly three minutes of yoga.

Totally worth it.

Later that day Evie asked “what’s wrong with your face?” ..

“Nothing it’s just my face,” I replied.

Then she pointed out each one of my stress pimples and said I should be careful with the red marker.


I can change a diaper with my eyes closed, while feeding Livie, and pushing Evie on the swing; nothing about this is hard except for everything. There is no end in sight; no paycheck at the end of the week. My husband leaves work every day with a sense of accomplishment. He gets recognition for a job well done. I should be employee of the month, but I feel to pathetic to print out my own certificate. Even my four-year-old would judge me if I hung up a picture of myself next to the water cooler complete with a lengthy paragraph about how great I am.

My husband gets to clock out, and “leave” work. I live at work. I eat sleep and breathe work, only there is no eating, sleeping, or time to breathe at my work. My “sleep” more closely resembles when you close your eyes for a split second when you sneeze. All night long I’m comforting scared babies after bad dreams, fetching glasses of water or more milk, nursing Livie 32 thousand times, putting her back in her crib, getting her back out of her crib, putting her back in her crib. It’s endless. My job, my days, the boredom and exhaustion; it’s endless.

But on mornings like today, when I’m drinking fucking Mothers Milk Tea instead of my delicious coffee, thinking about my beautiful future with my family is what gets me by.

What will these girls be like a year from now? Time goes so fast, they’re growing right before my eyes…


Soon… they’ll leave for college.


yeah…. soon.


I sit back and day dream of when these leaches will leave and I’ll get to shower in peace.

Only I’ll probably cry the whole time because my babies have all moved out of the house.


Motherhood is a real treat.

So tired, but so happy.

Mug at: https://www.usplusfour.com/collections/mugs-and-stuff/products/black-happy-mama-tired-mama-coffee-mug

Instagram: @shophappymama

2 Replies to “Tired Mama”

  1. I so remember the boredom of the routine stuff! You know, the stuff you HAVE TO DO EVERYDAY! Like cooking and/or cleaning

    Cooking gets boring when no one will contribute an opinion. Stroganoff or spaghetti?

    Whatever you want. No I asked for a push in one direction or the other! I really don’t WANT to make either.

    And cleaning! You almost have to do it early before you lose your motivation to clean out the sink AGAIN!


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