One Secret, No More

I have a secret.  Doesn't everyone?
I have a new coping mechanism.  It's miraculous in many ways.  First of all, I get teased.  I get teased because my choice of music as of late consists of "new age relaxation."  Aka?  Enya.  Yanni.  Yiruma.  It's soul soothing.  Yes, I said it.
Soul.  Soothing.

Well, we don't live in a huge place.  So, not huge place mixed with two rambunctious, occasional unbearable fit throwing boys?  Then there's the baby.  (Surprisingly enough, he is my link to sanity as of late.)  And, sometimes a puppy.  Another side note?
Puppy is often calmer than said boys.

So let's take this morning as an example.  Cole had to work, and he already had his hours in.  Strike one.  Strike two, Jack got up at 6, and had a late night.  Strike three came when I opened the door to James's room and was assaulted by this smell.  After that, the strikes kept falling.  Baby wouldn't calm down.  "Hold me.  ALWAYS!" is his mantra today.  Jack and James are tired and overly bored.  And puppy wants attention.
Strike.  Strike.  Strike.  Strike.......

Enter headphones.

All of the sudden, I see the chaos, but I can't hear it.  All I hear is "River Runs Through You" and "Orinoco Flow."  If I close my eyes for 5 seconds, I am transported to whatever visual the music can make.  It's peaceful.
It's serene.
I want to be where my headphones take me.

Then I open my eyes again and the chaos is still there.
But it's now manageable.

I'm tired.  All the time, I'm tired.  If you aren't a mother and you want to be one?  Buckle up.
If you are a mother and you can relate.  High five.  Now let's hug it out.

I've been told I am remarkably patient with my sons.  The truth is, I'm not.  I'm imaginative.  When I can feel the crazy starting to set in, I just zone out of one sense.  Mothers have like 20 senses anyway, so zoning out one to be lifted to another place is completely acceptable.

In the meantime.  Don't judge me.
Love me.
Love everyone.
We are, all of us, having a hard time in different ways.