Exhaustion

Exhaustion – Even saying the word makes me tired.  (ĭg-zôs'chən) That’s three syllables and a lot of effort to just say you are tired.  But then again, the simple word tired doesn’t completely describe the kind of worn out you are trying to convey to people.  Exhaustion just screams it, so everyone can truly understand. 

People will throw in the word utterly in front of it.  Or they use the words physically and mentally in front of it because simply saying the word alone doesn’t cut it.  It’s as if people cannot possibly comprehend the level that you have reached unless you describe it even more. 

If you say you are exhausted, you can bet someone else is gonna try to ‘one-up’ you on it too.  Like it’s a battle for high score on a video game.  They’ll come back with, “Oh, let me tell you about MY day!  I did ten loads of laundry, ran 10 miles, painted the house, replaced the transmission in my car, worked 34 hours, made dinner and had a sleepover for 15 kids, just today.” 
To which, my usual response is, “So.  I win.  I woke up that way.”  (That statement isn’t trademarked, so feel free to use it)  You know by now that I embellish a bit but you get my drift. 

Let’s face it, there are days we just don’t want to do anything.  We don’t want to get up.  We don’t want to shower.  We don’t even want to move.  We don’t even need a reason to be this way and if we do, we’re just going to make up an excuse as we go to get more sympathy. 

As lovely as it sounds to be so sedentary that you become a piece of furniture, typically that’s not an option for any of us.  Our alarms start blaring and here we go!  We hit the floor running or dragging, and at my house we even have the occasional kicking and screaming (but then David eventually gets up and goes to work).  Probably feeding off me, the kids are just as bad now too.  Just one word, WOW! 

I go to wake them up for school and whadda ya know?  First thing out of Teenie’s mouth is that she is exhausted.  She is 7.  I have often been heard telling her that if she cannot spell the word, she isn’t allowed to use it.  I don’t think kids should be allowed to use that word anyway.  Well, until they’ve had kids of their own and truly appreciate the concept. 
Leah (5) is worse.  She just pretends to be asleep so you try to get her clothes on, which is the equivalent of trying to dress a cooked spaghetti noodle.  A short noodle, but nonetheless, it’s still hard to do.  Emily, the teenager, well…she’s on her own anymore.  I threw the towel in on that one a few years back. 

Once up, the zombie-like behavior continues.  There’s the ever-agonizing mission of getting their teeth brushed.  Oh my word, you would think I was punishing them.  All I hear is moaning and groaning.  My response to any discontent is always the same.  “If you have the energy to argue about it, then you have more energy than me, so just do it!”

On special days like for Christmas or a birthday or Mother’s Day, people always ask me what I want.  My answer is always the same…A NAP!  Those kiddos in kindergarten don’t know how lucky they are.  A nap in the middle of the day and some don’t want to go to sleep.  What?  That’s crazy!  But hindsight really is 20/20 I guess.  I’d trade those little ones in a heartbeat now.  When they get to be 44 like I am, they are gonna want those naps and they can’t have them.  By the way, even saying my age makes me exhausted. 

From now on, I am not going to use big fancy words and drawn-out explanations to describe how wiped out I really am.  I’m just gonna try to whisper it gracefully to myself and get up anyway.  Let’s face it, I am the only one who truly realizes how utterly mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted I honestly really am.