Being Disappointed

Remind me never to promise my kids something and not follow trough with it. I hate it and it's just one disappointment after another.


I'm still waiting for my parents to come meet Squirt.


The first excuse was because we were living with my in-laws. Ok, I get that.


The next excuse was waiting until we unpacked. Which isn't completely done but it's done enough, and we don't have boxes laying around because the ones we still need to go through are in the shop/garage out back. So they're not in the way.


Now we were planning on them coming down while I'm gone. Granted, even if they wanted to come down for just a few days. I was excited, it was to help out Big E, and I've been telling Little E that they're coming down. Plus, Squirt will be almost 7 months old by they time they come down and finally meet him.


Plus, it's easier for them to come here than it is for me to travel with a 3 year old and infant and their car seats. We even offered to pay for the plane tickets.


Now we're just getting the run around. Shame on me for thinking anything would change this time around. They always do this. Just tell me you don't want to come down, don't get my hopes up every single time.


I'm getting the excuse now that they don't want to leave my sister and her family in the house that long. Then they'll see how the house looks. I know what'll happen next is that they'll wait till last minute and the ticket prices will double then we'll get the excuse that it's too much money.


Every time.


I'm half tempted to buy 2 plane tickets and tell them they have these tickets and if they want to come down it's there for them. Then see if they bother.


Except we don't have the money for that.


All I know is after this time I'm completely done. Now it's going to start affecting my children. Maybe when Little E was younger he didn't understand, but he does now and it's not fair of me to get him excited to see them because they promised to come and last minute they're not. I guess I can save him from that by just not telling him so, but oh well.


I give up.

I'm so frustrated

Sometimes I like to pretend everything is going fine and that I'm doing well. In reality, most of the time, I'm just extremely stressed out and wanting to cry. I feel trapped and I don't know what to do anymore.


I have a PT test coming up and when I should have been spending time working out, I haven't. I haven't spent as much time as I should be spending working out to pass this. Which means I'm going to fail and then I'm going to be stressed out. We have a treadmill, but by the time Big E comes home at night and I'm done with everything I just don't want to exercise. I'm so stressed out that all I want to do is relax and go to sleep. But even then I'm not able to.


You'd think I wouldn't be stressed out, but I am. I spend all day cleaning and constantly moving.
No one else takes the time to clean, or cook, or make coffee, or do the dishes, or the laundry, or even anything around the house. Everything that's been put away and unpacked is thanks to me. Big E can state that sometimes he does those things, but that's it. He does it sometimes. There's no consistency to help me out.


If I want some comfort. Clean clothes, coffee in the morning, dinner. I have to do it.


And I spend so much time constantly doing something. Either cleaning because our house is way too small and doesn't function. I hate I was talked into this house. This doesn't fix anything we had wrong where we rented prior to this. That place was just as small and had no room so there was just stuff everywhere. And we've brought that into our home.


I hate it. I can't walk anywhere without stepping over something. I can't keep it clean. I can't hide things because there's no damn closets or storage anywhere in this damn house.


Little E has decided lately that he doesn't want to poop in the potty anymore. So I spend time wiping him and cleaning up and washing underwear. And sometimes he pees his bed so that's even more time spent cleaning. Then I feel like he's always wanting or whining about something.


Then Squirt is still dependent so I have to spend so much time taking care of him.


The time I do get to pump for 30 minutes isn't without listening to whining, crying, and being even more stressed out.


I also hate the half finished projects. I wouldn't mind taking my kids outside so Little E can play on the swingset we got, but the thing is half finished. I'm tired of picking him up so that he can go down the slide because there's no stairs. Or that our closet isn't complete (no matter how many times I hear that we're going to do it tonight) so I can't put away any clothes. So I'm stuck digging through piles and piles of clothes to find anything to wear.


The kitchen is a mess. It's way too small and there's no storage for anything.


I just want to burn this house down some days.


Or run away.


Which ever.


There's nothing in this house that makes life easier. I can't just want to grab something and get it. I have to spend a lot of extra time searching or figuring out what to do with items.


I just want a functioning house. I want to have a day to breathe. I want someone to make my life easier.


Then Big E wonders why I don't want to go run on the treadmill (let's not talk about how the shop has a bunch of unpacked boxes too and stuff everywhere). I'm too tired mentally.


I can't do this anymore.


Most days I find myself questioning why I even stay. I just want to climb in the car and leave. But any help I'd have if I did leave I really don't have because other people in the family can't get their lives together.