One of the biggest problems I have had with picking a creative outlet and sticking to it has been a lack of free time.  Every minute of free time I have is devoted to my children and cleaning my house.  I just don’t have the time to express myself.  Christ, I don’t even have time to be myself.  Most of the time, I feel like nothing more than someone’s employee, someone’s mother, or someone’s housekeeper.

Tonight is a rarity for me.  I’m ignoring my other responsibilities and my other responsibilities are allowing it.  My oldest is out with her dad and my one year old isn’t feeling well, so she wants nothing more than to play in her crib and watch some Mother Goose BS on Netflix.   And the house doesn’t have any control over me or it might actually demand some attention.  My husband is quietly watching a movie and desperately wants me to have an outlet, so I’ll stop bitching in his general direction.

Because my husband knows, as I’ve told him repeatedly, ad nauseam, that I am going insane from the lack of any free time.  This is my day:  Wake up at 6; do a load of laundry, dishes or other chore; get oldest child’s school clothes out; listen to oldest child bitch about getting up or something else I can’t do anything about; take shower; try to remember all things needed for work, 7 year old’s school, and daycare and get assembled; tell 7 year old to compete each daily task at least 5 times before each task is performed; lose shit at 7 year old at some point for talking back or ignoring my fifth request to brush her teeth; wake one year old up; get one year old ready; try to make it out the door but one of us has forgotten something and we’re already late; make it to work and hope I’ve beaten the boss in so he doesn’t know I’m late; try to focus on work; work out at lunch or run errands; try to work on a blog entry while working; get off work; go home and immediately greeted by kids who need stuff;  crap with the one year old in the bathroom; do homework with the seven year old while cooking dinner; feed kids; give them baths; put them to bed; celebrate freedom at 8:30; fall asleep at 8:45.

Every fucking day.  Monday through Friday.  This is my day.  By the time the weekend arrives, all I need is a break.  But I don’t get one.  I’m up early, because my seven year old looks for any movement from me at all and then keeps checking on me until I give up and get out of bed, usually at 7.  It actually exhausts me to go into further detail about my weekends, so I won’t.  Suffice it to say, I never have any free time.

My lack of free time is one of the main reasons I’ve become a disgruntled . You should never lose yourself in the process of raising your kids, but when your every waking moment is in some way devoted to them, it becomes impossible not to lose yourself.  Free time is essential.  Adult time is essential.  When you have neither, life just isn’t very fun.  You’re always frustrated, and if you’re always frustrated, you can’t be a very good parent.

I can’t remember the last time my husband and I went out on a date.  I think I went out for a night out with the girls about five months ago.  My husband and I went out about seven months ago.  We just don’t have a reliable babysitter and his family always wants a ridiculous amount of money for babysitting.  We pay $50 for three hours out.  We just can’t justify spending that much money.

I know that I’m not alone.  I know there are plenty of working moms out there who can relate to being as busy as I am and who might even be reading this while hiding in the bathroom with a glass of wine.  I understand your pain.  Please, have one for me.