I am overwhelmed with testosterone. OVER-FUCKING-WHELMED.
We are how ever many weeks into summer vacation and I feel like I have to be atleast a mile down the road to breath any real breaths. The ones I take here now are short and shallow and not life-giving at all. I am crushed to the floor and ground with their boasting, needing, agressing, dripping selves over and over all day and into the night. They seek me out so often, that I am reduced to taking nightly "baths", where sometimes I just run the water to be able to sit alone in a room for a half hour. The one weapon I have against their constant approach is my naked body. The threat of such a thing keeps them well at bay. Maybe I should become a nudist.
That'll teach 'em.
Nope, nope it won't. The fact is, this is the reality for a mother of three boys at the ages mine are, living the life I live. I find guilt, naturally, in my hiding in the tub. Of course, I should not feel guilt at all, instead, I should be patting myself on the back for giving myself these moments and not strangling those boys. I'm not sure (MOM) where the guilt comes from, but it always comes.
I need a day off from the never ending need machine and I will take it, guilt free. Not hearing the noise from the other side of the bathroom walls makes it a whole lot easier to appreciate the time off, especially if there's no false nudity involved.
Or laundry and dirty dishes, none of that either.