can’t quite reach surface
it’s definitely there though
least, that’s what I hear
I often joke about being driven crazy. Right now, though, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s actually happened. The crying seems to be a hint that maybe something’s not OK. This constant, behind the eyes prickly feeling I have isn’t a good feeling. Only it’s not constant. Some days I’m great – a mama who’s taking over the world. But other days all it takes is one thing and I have to chew on the insides of my cheeks to keep from completely losing my shit. Today is a shit losing day.
It’s funny how, at about four months post partum, it seems like you’re getting the hang of things. You kind of have a routine, you recognize some of your baby’s cries, you know how to soothe her, you know ways to literally talk your older child off the window ledge (or the kitchen counter or the back of the sofa), you’re getting the hang of it. But other people see that you have the hang of it and they think you actually know what you’re doing. Offers of help don’t come as often as you still need them. Your spouse goes to work early and comes home late because he sees the house isn’t falling apart without him. But you don’t have the control over everything like people think you do.
It’s a precarious hold I have over my household and myself right now. Sure things are messy, but the kids are fed, clothed and happy. The bills are paid, the budget is kept, the sheets are washed, the floor is cleaned, the dog is alive, birthdays are remembered, Christmas presents are bought, books are edited, new books are written, the car has gas, the pantry has food, hair is washed, underwear is cleaned, batteries are replaced, plastic is recycled, frogs are fed, eye doctors are visited, well child appointments are scheduled, school is arrived at on time, as is dance class, old milk is thrown out, dishes are cleaned, clothes that are too small are replaced with clothes that are too big, prescriptions are filled, lullabies are sung, knees are kissed, tears are wiped away, snot is wiped away, wishes are made from tiny little eyelashes, and sometimes, every now and then, mama gets to take a nap.
Mama does a lot these days and she misses herself. I miss having dinner together as a family, too. I miss having a husband to wake up to in the mornings instead of a hurried kiss as he leaves the house at 4:30AM for work. I miss going places. I don’t go places very often, other than taking the wee one to school and dance and the occasional visit to the library. I could go places when he’s at school, but I don’t have the energy. I’ve been too busy being mama from 4:30 AM to 7 PM every day. Even if I COULD get out, it wouldn’t be safe for me to drive because I’m so tired.
And that is why I have the prickly feeling behind my eyes. I’m tired. I’m a little overwhelmed. I need my partner to be my partner and not a visitor the family gets to see for a hour and half everyday before we go to bed. I need a break, a vacation, a shoulder, a good cry. And I need to not feel guilty for needing that. Because I do feel guilty for needing it. I HAVE a partner. I HAVE great kids. I HAVE my writing. I do not live in Darfur. My husband is not in Iraq. I do not need the food bank for my holiday dinner.
I am lucky.
But I’m underwater right now.
