Tired

Living in another country, in a large city, with a baby/toddler, is exhausting.

I forget sometimes that my life is quite a bit different than the average 30-something American parent's life. Today I feel like I've accomplished almost nothing. I:

took a shower

read my Bible/had prayer time

took Lane to a friend's to play

took a short nap

made dinner

entertained Lane

And that's about it. And I'm exhausted.

In America I think that the above list would go something like: wake up, take a shower, eat breakfast. Read Bible and have prayer time either before kiddo awakes or during nap time. Toss backpack/diaper bag/purse into car, strap Lane into car seat, and go to friend's house. Come home via same way and cook dinner with what's in the fridge. Play with Lane and the multitude of toys she'd have, take her outside to play in the yard, etc., etc., etc.

Here the list goes like this: wake up, take shower, throw everything for the day's outing in my purse. Walk, carrying 22-pound toddler, 15 minutes to a bus stop, wait on the bus, and then ride the bus 20-30 minutes, feeding Lane apples to keep her quiet and occupied. Get off the bus and walk another 10-15 minutes until we're at our friend's house. Stay for two hours and then leave because it's already nearly nap time and we still have a 45-60-minute commute home. Repeat transport story in the reverse order, sharing a seat (a bit bigger than a normal seat, but still not big enough for two bottoms) on the bus with a handicapped man because nobody else would move for him to sit down. Get home, get Lane in bed, eat lunch (Lane ate while at our friend's) read my Bible and try to pray but fall asleep. Wake up and send Shannon to the store across the street to buy stuff for dinner because produce here lasts maybe two days, so it's hard to stock our fridge for more than a day or two. Finish my prayer time while he's gone, chop veggies and make dinner while Lane watches a show, and collapse exhausted when finished, still having my fingers pulled off by the almost-17-month old who wants to drag me around the house to play with her.

Ugh.

I shouldn't complain. I have a good life. Compared to a lot of moms out there, I have an easy life. But I'm reminded on days like today (which happen more often nowadays, probably because I'm pregnant and more tired/emotional than "normal") that my life is quite, quite different. I get a break when Lane sleeps, if Shannon takes her to the store or ATM with him, and about once every 4-6 weeks when Shannon watches Lane for a few hours so I can go out with the girls. Or when I go to the doctor. No relatives to babysit. No friends to come over to babysit, because let's face it, nobody wants to travel an hour on public transportation to watch someone else's kid just to have to travel that same hour home. I haven't gained a single pound this pregnancy because I walk an average of at least two miles a day. I can't eat what I'm craving most of the time, because Chic-fil-a, Mexican food, a nice, affordable filet, and good pizza are all thousands of miles away. To go outside to "play" means either Lane plays on the concrete that is our courtyard, or I push/walk her 25 minutes to the nearest park.

I'm just tired. And I'm tired of this city of 18 million people. I need a vacation.