I’m trying. I am. I’m struggling too. I know you’re both sick. I know you’ve been sick for days. I know that getting sick at the end of a major trip and having to be sick the entire drive home was the pits.

Being in my 3rd trimester with two sick kids wasn’t exactly the highlight of my life either. Seriously, I haven’t even unpacked my suitcase.

I’m sorry I’m so tired. And my patience is thin. I was up all night with one of you ill. After a long road trip. We lost an hour. I’m so tired I can barely hold my head up. Your little brother on the inside is taken everything from me.

Your dad and I are struggling. We are fighting to just stay connected and pay bills. And I’m tracking antibiotics, breathing treatments, miserable toddler who can’t tell me what hurts. And you, my oldest, are a terror when you are sick. You don’t just sit in front of a tv. You would but your attitude turns to complete shit. And you’ve got less patience for your sick siblings.

I’ve been up with y’all for hours. And in the chaos, I was too tired to even eat. Being so far pregnant and dealing with this sickness and hormones and everything, I didn’t eat all day. I felt faint when your daddy came home from work. I enjoyed dinner. Even if neither of you would eat it.

And the truth is, I love you. I wish I was like your grandmother too. Who knows how to do it all and has unlimited patience. And she had the benefit of help nearby when I was growing up. I have zero help.

I promise I’m trying. I have lists of things that need to be done. But nothing happens because y’all need me. And your clingy and sick and miserable.

Seriously, when y’all crawl into bed tonight, I’m going too. Crawl into my dirty sheets that I’ve been meaning to wash for two weeks. And I’ll try tomorrow to have more energy.

But right now, I’m fighting tears and exhaustion and failure. And worry about the baby. And not having anything left for your daddy.

Nobody is more ready for the routine and school and life to be more normal than me.

We have just a few weeks before your new brother comes. I’m scared to death. Right now I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water taking care of the two of you. How will I handle three of you if you all get ill? I’m a full witch on no sleep. And I’ve had no sleep for weeks.

I know you don’t understand. You don’t understand that while you’re sick and miserable. I’m struggling to pick up the cup one of you threw. Fighting tears because you won’t eat anything i fix. I have no energy to wash the dishes and pots. Or sweep the food you’ve thrown to the floor. That I can’t see my own feet anymore. My belly aches. I have to pee all the time. And you’re heavy to hold and carry.

I’m trying. But you make me say 2000 times to stop before I lose my shit so you actually listen. Then y’all cry because you’re tired and sick and snotty and have a coughing fit until you almost puke. Or it’s like trying to control a raptor to accomplish half a breathing treatment.

I’m trying. But I’m tired too. And I feel like I’m failing.